#when one of them stabs Sebastian in the chest and the other one rips his hand off (with pure strength)

[witchlingcirce]

When your the strongest female shadowhunters 🙏🏻

[lovee-infected]

Macaroon anon I love you and how can I resist writing for such a great idea? I really wanted this piece to take place as Ciel was stuck in twst in my previous au but since I mentioned dorm leaders there it couldn't be really done...Rip

A twisted path ✨

~ Black butler x twisted wonderland ~

Feat : Mey-Rin , Bard & Finnian

Poor trio stay away in shock of not only his unexpectedly loud shout but also...eh...his appearance .  Are they wrong or does this guy really look similar to master Ciel...?

Coming conscious still with his eyes closed , he hears some sounds around him:" He dead ?-""No I don't think he is, his chest is still moving" "Anyway what's this body doing hear at Phantomhive's mansion? If he's been stabbed or something it's going to be troublesome," "Na I guess this dude's just been really drunk y'all. Also...what's with the clothes ? Could it be that he's somewhat of an actor from nearby theaters ?" "Aye? Since when are the designs this messed up...- I guess we'd better get rid of it before mister Sebastian returns, maybe burry hi-"

Riddle freaks out as he hears this idiots wanting to burry him alive and immediately wakes up screaming at them to stay away.

Riddle on the other hand gazes upon what he just faced: a red haired haired maiden wearing a pair of glasses, a yellow haired boy with green pupils and a rather buff man with a toothpick in his mouth staring at him. " Ah- He a'live ! Man ya gotcha be more careful with drinking," the buff man chuckles. Riddle suddenly feels highly unsafe: Who are these people? And where am I? He's read NRC's maps enough to know that such a building is surely not a part of it , come along it's weird people. Was he kidnapped while asleep...?He pulls up his staff and starts threatening them with it , wanting them to immediately introduce themselves and explain what he was doing here- wherever it was-

Finnian tries to calm him down with a soft smile and a friendly attitude, but Riddle is strong at his point: He wants answers.

When he sees them all trying to calm him down with no explanations he gets mad : "OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

...What ? Wait-maybe try again:"Off with your-Heads!" ...Why isn't it working? Riddle stays still, the magic collars have to be around their neck but- they are not...?? There must've been a mistake: " Off with your heads - Off with your HEADS - OFF WITH YOUR HEADS DAMN IT-"

Mey-Rin, Finnian and Bard stare at their angry guest shouting nonsense and getting as red as a tomato, what is wrong with this guy..?

Riddle is furious and confused , what's the matter ? Is his magic blocked the same as that time Beans day?  He doesn't know , and he doesn't like it

Riddle starts shouting at them asking what they've done to his magic and the poor guys just go...Huh ? Riddle keeps on getting redder and redder as if he's about to explode . He starts threatening them from reporting them to the head master to giving them to the official policies for kidnapping and neglecting his picture 

Finnian then decides that maybe it's better to leave him to mister Sebastian and so : Picking up a huge branch and a striking it to his head , savage

Riddle passes out immediately whoops- maybe Finnian should have been softer-

They stay there gazing upon their... masterpiece . Finnian might have even broken his skull - Good god , what should they do now ? They must wait until mister Sebastian arrives ; But where is he now ?

Feat : Suma & Agni

"Pssssssst- Agniii...I guess he finally woke u-" " M- my prince , y-you sure that it was a good idea too bring a total stranger out of nowhere to our home ? I'd greatly appreciate it if you be more ca-"

Argh...what is with all noises around him ? He's told Ruggie a million times not to let anyone in his room whole he's taking a nap even if it's gonna be the grim reaper ; what are these brats doing here?

Leona rambles under lips and with a push he's awake : " Oi , you'd better know that I don't like having my naps ruined,"

Suma gasps at the sight of him being finally awake and tries to offer his unwanted guest a welcome hug which Leona rejects- Poor Suma

Leona isn't yet realizing what actually is going on , from not knowing that this isn't his room to the fact that he's now at more than 100 years ago in a whole different world ; ironic

Leona orders them to take this annoying conversation out of his room just to face Agni's locked expression : "Your room...?"

Taking a better look , Leona finally gets that this probably isn't his room and these people surely aren't from NRC

Sounds get echoed through his brain and he feels a small ache inside it . He rubs his head ...why does everything feel so strange ? Something is different ... could it be that he's still sleepy or..? Wait a second - Why can't he shake his tail ?

He immediately looks back to see if he's sit on his own tail but faces a terrifying scene : There is no tail . Is it cut off ????

and a newer fact flashes his brain : There are no ears either . But then how can he still here the sounds ? "P-please don't be", he begs . His hands shake as he brings them up to touch both sides of his head ; wishing not to find what he is looking for . And they are ! Human ears !A mild shiver is sent down his neck and he rushes to the mirror on the other side of the room just to face this nightmare with his own two eyes

He stares at the mirror with his eyes wide open and mouth as if he is going to shout . No...

Oh...nevermind . He has to calm down ; it's nothing but another fancy dream . He'll soon wake up and these will be all gone . Leona tries closing his eyes and cursing , wanting to wake up to sanity when he opens them again

Surprise : Nothing's changes . Two crappy brats still staring at him . Agni is now a bit suspicious but Suma on the other hand is really motivated : " Ahh~! Sorry if it's strange to sleep in the streets and wake up in bed- I just saw you laying there in a death like slumber and couldn't help but to bring you along ! Also , haven't we met before ? I'm pretty sure that I've seen your face somewhere before... Don't you happen to be from India ? "

Agni is really stressed out and keeps warning the young boy : " My prince ! He's now all conscious and fine , then I'd lead him out of he-"

"Prince , huh ?" Leona wasn't ever really interested in visiting ally kingdoms back at his home town so he barely got to meet any other princes , hm but to think that this cherishing child is actually a prince...man , the world has really changed

But he has no time for such games now , he has to find Ruggie or anyone else who may lead him out this insanity and return him his ears and tail

He asks for where he is - else than Suma's mansion - and the answer doesn't really do any help either . Where on the bloody hell is London ? And if these people found him laying in the streets when the heck did he even get here ? Well , doesn't really matter now , but where is NRC ?

Suma and Agni probably don't know where NRC is and Dire Crowley ? Suma wonders if this guy was the one who fooled him to buy a sick elephant which died a week after in india , but Agni is sure that neither him nor his prince have ever met a single soul named this

Leona is getting more and more pissed off wasting time chatting with these idiots so he takes his way out , ignoring Suma's begs for him to stay for lunch at least

He freezes just at the second he opens the exit doors and gazes upon the streets : Horses? carriages ? 19th century's clothing ? How long have these people been stuck in this lack of technology?

He feels like he now really needs to make a phone call but searching his pockets he finds both of them empty...those brats stole my-

He was close to getting hit by a carriage when someone shouts at him with a : " OUT OF WAY YOU SON OF A-"

He is now ready to get in a fight but a sound cuts him off : " LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!" , this extremely annoying sound...what the heck is he doing here and : WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL HAS HE DONE NOW !!!????

Feat : Lau & Ran-Mao

Business tip nu 1 : Always keep calm , even if you end up losing all your magic powers in the surface without the possibility of returning to your original form or knowing where in the damn world you are : K-e-e-p-c-a-l-m

Thankfully , Azul's dope nature avoids him from going crazy during his stay in this...non-Twisted wonderland world

He had heard of theories explaining the possibility of other world's existence ; countless ones indeed . But to end up in one of them without any preparations ? He wasn't planning on that

Well nevermind , that cannot be helped now . let's look for a better way

Lack of facility , cultural deprivation and severe corruption ; is this how humans are ? No wonder the sea witch called them Poor unfortunate souls...

Enough with these people , he must now ignore all other disadvantages and take a look into beneficial sides of it...If he has ended up here , in this world and into this spot of the city there must be something linked to magic nearby ; even if he's surrounded by all these foolish people who haven't ever even seen real magic by their own eyes

Just as he's looking around , something catches his attention : a strange smell . Thanks to his family he's pretty good at following smells to their source and knowing what exactly they are : it's the pungent smell of Opium

He follows the smoke to its source and arrives to a bunch of stares going underground . A board is place next to the stares with something written on it :  Opium Den

Azul isn't one to believe in superstitions but he is sometimes interested to take ambitious  steps ; life sometimes brings you worthy surprises

Entering the shop , someone slightly grabs his arm . He turns his head to face a young, beautiful lady pulling his sleeve softly , eyes empty of any emotions . Without saying a word , Ran-Mao grabs his hat and coat and Azul thanks her , seems like he took the right path

His vision got a bit blurred as must of the air is filled with smoke , not that he isn't used to such atmospheres

" Why welcome to my place , sir . How may we service you today~ ? " a sound says from other side of the room . Azul turns back to face the source of all these smoke holding that young lady from before close , could she be her right arm woman or something ? She seems pretty obedient for one , which is nice

Azul introduces himself and takes a seat . He isn't going to get to his main point at the very first seconds ; he needs to make sure that he's come to the right person . He introduces himself as a businessman from a far away city , came to explore more of business tactics here in London . He offers Lau a small chat toward that , wanting him to give him more information on business if possible and return , he'd be given similar information about Azul's home town

While being considerably great at it , Lau isn't really interested in wasting time talking about business , all he ever cares in some sort of entertainment in whatever he does . Still , he agrees of playing this fake role for a short time . Although he knows that Azul isn't here for this either...

A few minutes pass and they both know that Azul doesn't really care to know how much a pork costs and either is Lau , so takes a serious step himself : " I see you're a man of business , Mr . Azul . I wonder what I you may be able to offer me in return ," Azul clarifies that he would get interesting information if he gives Azul good ones ; everything is clear and equal . "Then , I'm afraid that I've got not much to offer ," Lau sighs , but a small smirks appears of his lips : "But what would you say about some tea ? And maybe a small talk ? "

Lau isn't like others out there and that's pretty recognizable to Azul , but it doesn't make him the right person to trust either . He is continuing this conversation in hope of Lau leading him to the right person he is looking for , someone worthy of a greater contract . Lau lets out a sad sigh feeling sorry that he can't do much help , but he knows that who may do : A well-known friend , serving years working as a right arm man . Talented , well cultured , big on all issues including business : "I'm sure that you'll like him ,"

Well perhaps this thing's starting to work out for him : " Then by all means , lead me to this mister you speak of , Mr. Lau~" "With all pleasure . Bring him his coat and hat , sister " , Lau orders . Pleasure is always his first priority , but nothing would ever break rules of a contract ; He gives , he receives . Even taking him to Sebastian is counted but , he's already thought of that . This young man seems quite entertaining and when he first stepped into his shop Lau was expecting him , a spacial guest

Lau doesn't really care about superstitions , but still enjoys his ambitious steps  . This guy had came to him just as expected and now , something about him tells Lau that getting him to Sebastian will bring him as well newer faces to meet...what an entertaining day it would be

Feat : Tanaka

Jamil is... about to lose his mind . Caught in a whole other world without a meaningful explanation of how he ended up here or why . Magic doesn't work and there is no certain way to scape this situation and make a return to NRC . But the worst thing about it remained certain : He is caught with Kalim

Why in the bloody hell does he always have to be hooked up with Kalim ? Parents forced him into it at childhood , headmaster orders to it at school and now , the world suddenly decides to abandon him together with Kalim ? If it's joke , that's a pretty lame one . Why does he have to live in the shadows of Kalim being the unworthy dorm leader ?

Now lost in the streets , not knowing where to go or who to contact , what a wonderful way to start a day

Kalim isn't liking it at all : dirty streets , loud and short tempered people , street fight and drunk men everywhere , the smell of death filling the air , this is horrible . Kalim is well aware of poverty and deprivation lasting for so long and even remaining until the very present day , but traveling back in time and space to face one of the most terrifying levels of it just isn't his thing . He feels sorry and odd at the same time : Is this how life behind of the walls of his royal castle looked like ? He wishes he could help it . He probably could if he was any linked to NRC right now

He keeps on telling Jamil how poor they look and wonder if there is a way to help...The world Kalim knows has elegant and colorful nights and days but this world...was all caught in a dead gray mist

Jamil doesn't say a word because he doesn't want to listen , Kalim can keep on daydreaming but he has to find a way back a.s.a.p . They can't leave Scarabia just on their own and everyone (including Kalim's Dad) must be really stressed out by now . He continues to look , but there isn't really anything helpful around them . People yelling at each other and smoking the shit out of themselves . Young ladies flirting as young men offer them a carriage ride and tourists staring at each and every building like they hadn't ever seen a place to live inside as if they've been living in a cave so far , huh

Jamil can no longer take it next to Kalim and eventually goes feral : " WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP !!?" He has no control over his words now , he's nervous , furious and freaked out . If he were to compare his mood to something similar he'd say the time he overblotted , just that he had his magic back then

Now Kalim as well gets into a fight with him . What the hell does this have to do with him ? Jamil has to calm down and be realistic unless they'll never find a way out ! Jamil states that if he grew up just enough to realize how terrible their current situation is , he would've had something better to do than showing mercy over some bunches of street rats

The two of them keep on arguing until someone cuts them of : " Hohoho young men ! What's with all these loud sounds ?"

They stop and turn back to face the source of this old , chill voice . Facing a tall , old man dressed in all black clothes which high-leveled servants would wear and a monocle , giving them a soft , calm smile

" Aa- nevermind grandps ! It wasn't like it seemed we were just talking ! Right Jamily ? " he says , putting a hand on Jamil's shoulder and giving a big , wide smile . "H-hey... don't call me that..." , Jamil doesn't like Kalim acting this chill ; but it is embarrassing to see that they actually called attention

"Hoho , better . Now tell me young men , could it be that you have a trouble ? You look awfully down ," Tanaka asks ; sounding just like a grandfather guiding his grandchildren

Kalim takes a look at Jamil , wondering if it's right to do what he's thinking of and Jamil in return , nods as a yes " Well sir , there you see we actually don't belong here yet to another-" Jamil cuts him off before he could mess the whole thing up : " -Another state , indeed ! We came here for some sort of a business trip and were supposed to be on our way back home by now but sadly , ran into thieves . Our families must be really worried for now and I doubt them being sure of us being hooked up here . We lost everything and have no way to contact anyone we know... only if someone nice enough could be found to help us with it right now ," Jamil dropped his head , trying to act as natural as possible . Kalim wants to remind him that this isn't right to lie someone who is trying to help them yet he wonders if he should let Jamil take care of this now , after all he was much of a worthier leader than him to be honest...

" That's so sad to hear dear boy , I'm sure that young master as well would've been really frustrated if he were here ," Tanaka replies . Oh ? Young master ?  Jamil is now interested . Wherever this man came from , it can't be somewhere cheap , Jamil could tell . Leading them to a mightier source would be a better thing than just laying in the streets waiting for some miracle to save them right ? " Young master , you say ? " Kalim asks . " On the second thought , how about me introducing you to my master ? You're not much older than him I suppose , he as well needs to have more friends like you good men  ," Tanaka says with a sweet smile . " That'll be so nice of you um , Mr...? " Jamil asks " Tanaka is fine young boys . And you? "  " Jamil Viper ," " Kalim al Asim ! Glad to meet you Tanaka sir ! " Kalim says , bringing his hand for Tanaka to shake . Tanaka shakes hands with both of them and Jamil decides to make the process a bit faster : " I look forward to meeting this young master you say , Mr. Tanaka . It's always great to meet more men of culture ," Jamil sneakers . " Then by all means , follow me young men ," Tanaka says . With a sound of pop and some smoke , the tall man shrinks into a chibi version : " Ho , ho , ho ," " What the-!!!" Kalim panicks , no magic and yet this dude can shrink all of a sudden huh ?

" Ho ho," chibi Tanaka says before turning back and going to another direction . " I guess we should follow him," Jamil says . Kalim agrees and then , they're both following the chibi old man to the Phantomhive's mansion . Unaware of the two eyes watching them all this time : " Hihihi ~ they're quite interesting ,"

Feat : Grell Sutcliff & Ronald Knox

"Come oooon Ronald~ Shake your lazy ass and bring her along already..." " Oi senpai , that's mean ! This one's quite heavy-" "JUST SHUT UP AND DO THAT ! Don't you know it's rude to question ladies too much ? " " F-fine then , but at least give me a hand ! Have you even checked if she's dead !? " Heavy ? Dead ? She...? Vil isn't born to be disrespected like this . AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL GETS TO PULL HIM BY LEG WHEN HE'S ASLEEP

Vil immediately starts shouting at the Blondie , threating him that he'll regret it if he doesn't let go of him now . Ronald and Grell almost have a heart attack at Vil's chicken like screech which makes them jump

Vil snads up and glares at the two shinigamis : A really ugly female like one all dressed in red and a small blondie brat which looks like...eh..Azul ? Well nevermind ; doesn't matter now

What should he begin with ? Where he is ? Who these potatoes are and how they didn't recognize him being the leader of Pomefiore ? How perky they were to move him while asleep like this and ruin fabric of his overly expensive unforms ? Too many things to do

" Ah you're too loud ! My ears...Such an unexpected shout to hear from a man this hot I'd say..." Grell giggles . Vil's eyes widen , well of course he is beautiful but to be praised like that ? Ew , this is more of a insult ...

Vil decides to ignore Grell and get to the main point : Who they were and what they wanted . Grell smirks before preparing to give a 5 hour long opera show of shinigamis' romance but Ronald locks him on that point : They are shinigamis , they collect souls of the death , they had grabbed Vil because he looked a bit like the woman they were just going to collect yet didn't pay enough of attention to notice that they made a mistake , so they can all leave since they've got nothing to do with each other

Just before Ronald could get away Vil grabs him by collar , asking where they've brought him to . Grell clears that they just moved him by 30-40 meters from where they found him so it can't be really counted as bringing him to somewhere . Vil refuses to believe , wherever he is , it's way further than Pomefiore dorm or even NRC's accessable area ; that can't be . Vil threatens them one more time : " You refuse to tell , you'll end up dealing with the headmaster ," Grell and Ronald probably don't know who the headmaster is but Grell tries to take advantage : "Aaa? Is he one into punishing type ?" Vil is slowly getting annoyed by how weird this red one sounds to him ; To be honest he acts like an impatient porn star or something...

That's it , he's calling Crowley but uh , where is his phone ? Did he lose it ? Impossible . He'll never forget such an important thing to bring along ... Did these brats dare to steal his pockets....!? Vil asks them to give his phone and wallet back : now " Sir , you may like to know that human money brings no good for us and also , I'm afraid that I don't really know what you may mean by phone? " Ronald mumbles (Remember that phone isn't yet invited at their time ). Why don't this guy just let them go take care of their business ?

Vil hates it when people dare opposing him and doesn't ever take that lightly...who do these two think they are ? " Where is Night Raven College , answer or you'll face unpleasant consequences..." Is Vil challenging Grell ? Then Grell's more than ready to see what this human may have up his slave to speak to a shinigami like this : " And what may the consequences be...?" Vil gets tired , a small spell and this red ass bitch would be nothing but a toad , " I tried to warn you , you should've listened..."

Ahem , hello ? Magic ? Why isn't it working ? " Pffffffftttt- Lmao are you high or something man ? You just woke up !You'll be a great actor though I swear- You can drown in all that nonsense ," Grell laughs . " Well then hottie , I'm afraid we've got to go , see you when it's your time ~ " Grell turns to leave but Vil grabs him by collar . No one is leaving until they explain what the actual heck is going on : this place , the magic , everything

Grell on the other hand enjoyed flirting , but can't take being acted to like this . He pushes Vil back and gives him a psychotic smile , bringing up his chainsaw : " Wouldn't it be amazing if I cut those rushy tongue of yours at once ? fewer words , more of a male charm ," "Oh ?" magic may not work here , but they're not all Vil has got , he can still give this bitch guy a lesson without them : " Oi you two , this isn't really gonna workout-" Ronald mumbles but it's too late now -

Feat : Undertaker

At least he wakes up to a more suitable scene , or it seems so - His body couldn't move freely inside of this cage-like space . Is this a cuffin...? He has experience with them from his freshman year but to end up in one of them again ? Could it be that Crowley is planning on another fancy event like their first time ? Boy , he didn't like it anyway . He knocks the door trying to open it but if seems too heavy to be moved . Damnit- , he hears footsteps from the outside : " Someone there ? Why can't I open this ??" A sudden screech from out and the door slides open : " Ah thank yoUWAHAAAA- !!" Idia screams at the sight of the creepy stranger's smile at him ; he wasn't expecting this . Also , this place doesn't look like the mirror hall ? Who is this guy and where is this place ??

" Hihihi you weren't that dead I see , why waking up so soon though~ ?" , Undertaker giggles in his playful tone . Idia needs too many things to be explained to him but he just doesn't have the time , Crewel will burn him in acid if he gets any late for his class again and he doesn't care how weird his current situation is , he has to go

He gets out of the coffin and rushes to the door but Undertaker stops him there telling him not to show up out there so carelessly , which clearly confuses Idia . " Your hair...It is quite fascinating that curses remain strong even as magic gets blocked..." Undertaker adds . Idia is used to people judging him for his family misfortune but this one seemed quite...odd . He decides to ignore it and leave

" ~ Okies then I warned you , but you'll end up needing a real cuffin in a few minutes pwahahaaa-" , Undertaker burts into laughter and Idia leaves

" creepy ass old ma-" , Idia nags slowly before freezing as someone screams really-loudly right into his ears " HAIR ON FIRE , HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE !!" Before Idia can notice what is going on he's gained tens of gazes to himself , why are these guys all dressed so strangely...

" M-mummy is that a monster ? I'm scared..." " Stay away from our children you hellish creature ! " Idia freezes , critiques coming one after one : Demon , monster , Satan , Death . One option left : Run

Idia now has to run for his life , this world just isn't his thing : not at all . Even if it weren't because of being chased by a group of angry humans , do you think that he could last for even one day in this old fashioned zone ? No technology , no phones , no robots , no gummy bears , no wifi- He'd read about how different the world was before the invention of media and couldn't explain how thankful he was to never have to handle a second in the past world because he wouldn't last there for more than an hour- well he wasn't right about never ending up there but , he was 100% right about not lasting for more than an hour

Now there , he is running like he never has , begging his feet to help him this time out of any other time . Angry people screaming and bringing fire and weapons to destroy the evil

He tries to contact any possible source for help but : No magic - no internet . RIP Idia

Meanwhile Undertaker is chilling at his shop , his mind running over the cursed boy and now listening to the sound of the frightened people because of him , how pathetic , If only he had agreed to hide his hair through a safer way...sigh he should have listened to advises coming from someone who has been living within humans for years by hiding his identity as a shinigami as as his eyes... " My my , humans aren't the only fragile creatures I see..." creation can seem disturbing to him sometimes , and that's the best part with it

Back to Idia , he is slowly running out of breath . Well maybe this is the point where he has to give up ? He has long lived as a loser , bastard , procrastinator and wasted almost each and every second of his life ; well perhaps except Ortho , that was a nice work of him . Wish he was here too say goodbye .  He isn't sure if his prayers would be accepted or not but it won't hurt trying : " Good gods who're told to be somewhere up there , I know that I wasn't best that I could be and I won't try to excuse my sins ; just please let it end fast, Ame- " he forgets his prayers as his guardian angel is standing just a few meters away from him ; oh have gods sent an identical twin - human version of Leona for him to be saved ? Well whatever now , he has no time if he's the original furry or not : "LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!"

And yes , he is the original one ! He curses as he sees the population after Idia , what the hell is wrong with this world ? Idia hides behind his back and Leona tries to take control before they end up burning the two of them together : " You people , chill ," " Why you defending that creature ? He a a misfortune ! A demon !" others shout at this words in agreement . Leona laughs it off . He says that Idia is way too dumb for a demon and even if he is one , he's the type to scream his ass off when someone says "hi" . Idia doesn't know if Leona's defending him or not but he doesn't dare saying a word . Leona seems too busy dealing with the crowd and slowly , the argument topic switches from Idia to Leona ; who isn't afraid of punching some faces . The argument slowly takes over and no one (even Leona) realizes Idia sneaking into an alley saving his life . He feels a bit guilty for leaving Leona on his own but he'll be fine , hopefully

Thankfully the alley is deserted and he finally lays down to catch his breath , still panting heavily . He almost got killed today and can't get over it , but things were getting a bit comforting : "Meow~" several cats show up from the corners and Idia puts on a small smile . A white kittens comes closer and allows Idia to touch and comfort him . Idia wonders , how does their lives as a cat here feels ? do they as well get as scared as he was just now?  . A few minutes later when Idia -and his cats- were chilling someone steps closer to them  . Before Idia gets to run away , a tall , black and familiar face shows up and gives him a pretty calm smirk : " My my , I see you as well adore cats, could it be some part of our hellish natures ?"

"...J-Jade...?"

Feat : Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis

Let us be honest , it isn't going to be that bad for him , is it ? His current lifestyle at Valley of the thorns is nothing less than London's late 19th century , just maybe it had more of a natural theme . Well , no technology can be good news since he never really get used to it after all . London's atmosphere as well seem to be just his thing : Sometimes savage but calm , filled with tea parties and great ceremonies , an interesting back ground toward the royal family and in summary , Malleus's ideal theme

Well maybe except some things : 1) HORNS-ARE-GONE . His family treasure , the great heritage that proved him coming from the all great and respected Draconia family , now is gone 2) No need to mention that there is no sight of his fairy ears either- 3) Having his magic lost in this unknown world , he is now nothing different from a fragile human being , just as weak , just as empty , just as disgusting . Oh but our prince isn't totally left on his own here...

Unexpectedly , Phantomhive's mansion is serving a mysterious guest today , even though Ciel was against letting strangers inside the house . Sebastian insisted on being aware of the importance of hospitality as the Queen's watch dog , specially with special guests

Everything seems odd to Malleus , this world , this time , this people and...this master and butler . He is no fool , not even the foolishest of these humans would treat and cater strangers without wanting something in return , therefore he needs to keep his guard up . They shouldn't be aware of his actual identity even if they look deprived of any magic

Ciel is feeling awfully uncomfortable , who is this man ? And what the heck about him might have caught Sebastian's eyes ? This greedy demon wouldn't easily be impressed , so what could it be ?

Sebastian insists that it's how he should learn to treat everyone else if he's willing to be well remembered after death ; he pronounces the last word in a pretty deep , dark tone . Making it clear that how he'll finally die in a sarcastic way which teased Ciel

He decides not to have any argues with Sebastian on that point since he can act pretty cocky with stuff he gets stubborn over , so let's see what he's hiding up in sleeve this time . Though Ciel is suspicious of other stuff as well , this Mr... -whatever he is since he doesn't give them a name- looks like a pale - greenish version of Sebastian . Could he be another demon..?

Malleus refuses to give them a name due to possible risks , yet he has to admit that he's being taken care of properly . The room he's given isn't as big as the one in his castle , but is still considerable for something a stranger would be given . Other than that , anyone else he's met here so far seemed to be pretty chill , oh except this tiny child with a blindfold and he gets to be called young master ? He has to admit that he's impressed . To be in control of all this property when you aren't yet even tall enough to pick your favorite book from the shelf on your own

And there is another guy who is really...how to explain , is it some feeling of deja Vu or he really does look like Silver ? The guy is always talking to the snakes just as Silver talks to the birds and animals . If it weren't because of difference in eye color , perhaps Malleus wouldn't believe that he wasn't Sliver himself . " Your stay won't last much longer master , your friends are on their way here , says Donne ," Snake tells him . Malleus doesn't really know how to feel about him but his words comfort him for some reason...

Ciel says that he needs to check on the trio since they've been calling him all day so he heads to the front yard , leaving Sebastian and Malleus alone

Sebastian offers him some tea and Malleus of course sees no reason to refuse . Sebastian doesn't sit beside him because it's arrogant of servants to sit beside the guests , so he remains stood up . He doesn't bother starting a conversation with Malleus and he does know how to get him to speak . Malleus doesn't mind answering to...some of his questions . How he likes it here in London , if he needs anything else during his stay , but the last question made his eyes widen : Does he do feel any uncomfortable under the terms of not being able to use his powers ?

Malleus doesn't answer , he pretends that he didn't hear him and stares at the window . He is hoping it to help him ignore Sebastian , but what he sees isn't any better :  Isn't that... Rosehearts laying there...??

Malleus has to go , not only because of getting rid of Sebastian at this point but to also check on his ally if he's alright or not :  Did the butler know he too was here all the time ?

Sebastian just knows what was going on in his mind and wants  better answers . Malleus stands up to leave but Sebastian takes grabs his arm before he could do anything : " No need to rush . We still have a lot to talk about , Mr. Draconia ,"

♦♥♠♣

Note for Idia's part : I was actually planning on Idea having his hair as well gone because , well , no magic no hair ? But that seemed too unfair for him lol

[luniellar]

The Union: Chapter One - Sebastian Stan X Chris Evans X Reader

Summary: This fictional story takes place between the three kingdoms that hold great power in the untouchable lands located in Europe. Despite the modern developments in the other countries, these three kingdoms, Callisto, Europa and Io, exist hidden from the rest of the world and embrace the cultural customs shared for centuries from the early human civilizations.

You are the daughter of the Europa Kingdom led by your father, King Jovian. This year you reached the fruitful age of 21, meaning that it’s finally time to fulfill your duty as the princess of Kingdom Europa. The arranged marriage between Kingdom Europa and Kingdom Callisto has been something that your father planned for a long time to finally bring peace between the three kingdoms. Whether you like it or not, you are the key piece to it all. King Stan of Callisto is who you will be sharing the honor of the arranged marriage. He is known by all as a man of savage fighting nature and very few words. You know there is no hope wishing for the passionate love your father and mother shared, but will you be able to bring peace to this land to fulfill your father’s last wishes?  

Link: Prologue | 1 | 

Warnings: Inappropriate languages & minor heated scenes 

Word Count: 2.6K

The dining table was filled to the brim with the fancy reception feast. High level nobles and knights sat around the table as they dug into the feast as if they had been starving for weeks. You and King Stan sat at the head of the table and your father sat by your right hand talking to the other noble men. When you glanced over by the King’s side, there was a handsome male with golden brown hair that reminded you of the warm autumn’s sun. He looked much too young to be the King’s father.

The Callisto’s family tree has been hidden under the table for a while after King Stan took over the land. One rumor said that his father died during one of the many battles, but no one ever heard about his mother. Some said that she passed away when he was young and others spoke of an illegitimate birth. You glanced over at the brown hair smiling lad by the King again. 

Hm…

“How bold,” the King’s velvet voice spoke calmly, startling you. “The queen dares to look at other mates in front of her king already.”

Your face turned red as you quickly darted your eyes from the blonde male and back to your plate. The food was untouched and starting to get cold.

He chuckled, sending shivers down your cold skin. “I can introduce you. He’s a close friend and my right-hand man, Duke Christopher Evans.”

You glanced up and made eye contact with the clear, crystal blue orbs that belonged to Duke Evans. He made a pleasant, genuine smile that lit up his entire face and tipped his head towards your direction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Euro- I mean Queen Callisto.”

You smiled back despite the awkwardness you felt when he spoke your new name. Any small amount of appetite you had left over was lost.

“The pleasure is mine, Duke Evans.”

“Please, call me Chris.”

You were taken back from the friendly nature of the Duke and didn’t know what to reply.

“Oh, uh-”

Before you could finish your sentence the king interrupted. “Aren’t you going to eat at all, my queen?”

You reached out for the brass fork beside the porcelain plate and stabbed a piece of salad through it. You felt the King and the Dukes’ eyes on you as you quietly chewed and placed the fork back down.

“The food must not be to your liking.” The King said out loud causing your father, who was engaged in another heated discussion with one of the nobles, to turn his head.

“My daughter loves all the food prepared at our castle, King Stan.” He replied disapprovingly. Your father took pride in the exceptional quality of food prepared in the Castle Europa kitchen. He even made sure to hand pick each and every staff member who was assigned to the kitchen.

“My apologies, King Jovian. I didn’t mean any harm in my comment. My queen looked like she was having a hard time finishing her meal.” King Stan replied with respect.

Your father cleared his throat which he did often when he disapproved of something. Ignoring the King’s comment, he turned to you. “Daughter, are you alright? Should I ask them to bring you something you would like to eat instead? What would you like?”

You smiled politely and shook your head. “No father, I appreciate your thoughts. My body is just exhausted from the long day, I’m looking forward to resting soon.”

King Stan’s smiling face and amused tone attracted the attention of the few sitting near us. “My queen, I didn’t know you were so eager to share beds.”

You glared up at him and saw a few unfamiliar eyes in your direction who caught his words. Your father’s pale fist around his steak knife caught your eyes. At this rate, there was only going to be one King standing after this dinner and King Stan was the one with a perfect track record. You looked over at Duke Evans who hung his head in shame at his friend’s embarrassing behavior. This dinner was already over.

You stood up from your seat and every pair of eyes around the room looked up including King Stan’s. “Please excuse me while I check on the preparations for my leave. Enjoy your dinner and thank you for coming.”

Whispers drowned behind you as you navigated yourself out of the dining hall. You walked over to the grand lobby and saw the helpers organize the boxes of your belongings for the move to Castle Callisto. You stood in the lobby and your chest felt heavy again.

“It looks like they are almost finished,” the velvet voice echoed behind her.

The tears teased around your eyes and you bit down on your lips hard to the point the taste of iron lingered around your mouth. You were going to make sure the King never saw your tears today. You were the Queen now. The last thing you needed him to think was that you were just another female body he could push around like a lifeless puppet.

He stopped next to you and your shoulder was touching his hard biceps through his commander uniform. You nodded in response without turning to look at him. “I am excited to see the beautiful Castle Callisto, King Stan. I should head back to say farewell to my Father.”

As you were about to head back, his strong grip grabbed your left wrist. His warm touch felt like needles against your cold skin.

“I’ll be waiting outside in the jet. Don’t make me wait too long.”

You wanted to rip your wrists out of his grip and shout profanities for asking you to cut your farewell to your own father short. You let out a soft exhale as you moved your free hand to move his warm hand. Despite the grip, it was fairly easy to move. Your hand felt tiny holding his large, masculine hand.

“Yes, I’ll be quick, my King.”

✧✧✧

You begged your father to continue the dinner instead of coming to say farewell. You knew that your goal of staying tear free this wedding was going to be ruined if you had to formally say goodbye. He then went on cursing about how he was going to kill that boy, but you had to quickly talk him out of that idea.

You looked at the massive Callisto Kingdom private jet that lit up the dark forest surroundings. A loud sigh escaped your lips as you looked behind the great Castle Europa. So many memories that made you into the woman you are today existed in this land. Biting your lips again, you closed your eyes to remember the air, soul, and people this land meant to you.

It was time to say goodbye.

“Goodbye Europa.”

✧✧✧

The jet trip was a little over two hours. Despite the empty seat next to the King, you sat in the row behind him. Surprisingly, he didn’t request you to sit next to him. Across from you was Duke Evans who fell asleep in the plush seat the moment the jet took off.

You stared out at the window the entire ride without a word. You couldn’t tell if the King also fell asleep, but you assumed he did since he also didn’t move a bit for the entire span of the ride like Duke Evans.

When the flight attendants came out from their space at the front of the jet, they announced that we landed in Callisto. You felt anxiety in your heart increase as you got up from your seat. As you were making your way to the aisle, a hot hand gently touched your arm. Unlike the prickly needle sensation from before, the touch was different, it was soft and caring.

The King quickly took off his jacket. In one motion, he wrapped your tiny frame inside the velvet material. You were still wearing your reception gown that was a toned down version of your white crystal wedding gown. It was sleeveless and made out of thin material. You didn’t realize how cold you were until the warmth encompassed your shoulders, arms, and bare back.

“It’s much colder in Callisto,” he said as continued down the aisle towards the exit.

“Thank you,” you managed to get out as you felt his warmth soothe your anxious feelings.

You followed the King and the Duke out of the jet. Like Europa, the landing field was located in the forest for privacy. When you got out, you couldn’t see anything but a large black SUV vehicle that was parked further out.

“Queen Callisto,” Duke Evans said as your feet touched the Callisto land. “Welcome to Callisto. I’ll be driving you and Sebastian back to the Castle.”

✧✧✧

Everything was a blur from the car ride to Castle. King Stan didn’t speak a word. You only captured a quick dark view of the castle as the car circled around through a private entrance and went underground. After what felt like five minutes in the tunnel, the car reached an empty parking garage.

Once the car parked, King Stan got out first and came over to your side to open the door. Half surprised that he still had manners after today, you hesitantly stepped out and looked around the space in curiosity.

“This is the private parking garage that gives you direct access to the King’s Suite.” Duke Evans spoke as if he could read your mind.

You knew that Castle Europa had similar security systems in place, but you never witnessed one in person.

Duke Evans led the way and you followed him and King Stan towards a glass door that led to the elevator. There was only one button that Duke Evans pressed and the elevator doors opened wide.

King Stan stepped inside and you followed. Duke Evans smiled as he waved back to us. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Queen Callisto and Seb. Have a good night.” Then the elevator doors closed.

✧✧✧

Each of the three kingdom’s castles had their own special charm. Castle Europa was unique from the others because it maintained the tradition and legacy of the old castle. They did make modern upgrades like jet landing sites and other security features, but the castle still maintained most of the original state. On the contrary, Castle Io was redesigned from the ground up with the latest security and highest quality materials. You never visited, but your father always made disappointed remarks about how the Io King was eager to tear down centuries of history for an iron fortress full of “useless” technological updates.

When the elevator dinged, the doors opened to a contemporary designed hallway. Black granite floors and gold accents in the wallpaper reminded you of what the penthouse floor of the royal hotel suite would look like. Dim circle warm lights lit the hallway as you quietly followed the King. As you shared the car and elevator ride before and now this hallway, you noticed a unique scent that lingered from him. He had a warm and spicy scent that was a mixture of rum, tobacco, and vanilla.

After a short walk down the hallway, the King stopped at the grandiose tar black wooden doors. There were elegant brass knobs as the handle. He biometrically scanned his hand on a glass panel next to the doors and there was a soft click signaling the doors were unlocked.

“We will make sure to add your biometrics tomorrow for access to my chambers.”

His intoxicating and addicting scent rushed towards you as he opened the doors. Unlike the modern and contemporary design of the hallway outside, most of his room still resembled the King’s chambers that was passed on for centuries. The dark stained wooden floors were covered in ornate deep purple carpets. The same deep purple color saturated the walls and the gold accents looked as if it was etched into the damask pattern like it was some precious fabric. The room was dimly lit with crystal chandeliers around the room.

His overly large four poster bed was stretched out in the middle of the room against the back wall. The rich gold and purple fabric hung from the bed frames.

His velvety whisper from the wedding ceremony played in your mind.

“I will be looking forward to tonight, my queen.”

You glanced around to the king who was starting to remove his formal wedding attire. He expertly removed his commander uniform and dropped it on the purple velvet couch. The numerous amount of medals on his uniform made a soft thud as it landed.

“Aren’t you going to undress?” He asked nonchalantly as he walked to the bathroom.

You froze in place not sure of what to do. You wanted to wash up and go to sleep after a long day like today, but you had no idea where your change of clothes were. Most importantly, the wedding night tradition was just as important as the wedding.

You were going to lose your virginity tonight.

You took off the king’s velvet jacket and placed it on the same couch he dropped his uniform. Unsure of what to do next, you started to make your way to the bathroom. Your heart was racing in your chest as you got closer.

At the same time, the King stepped out of the bathroom and your eyes widened in embarrassment. He was shirtless and was only wearing his black suit pants hanging from his hips. You had never seen a shirtless man before. Well, that wasn’t completely true, you studied Greek and Rome art enough to know what it looked like, but you never saw a live one in person. The only references you had was the Statue of David, but his body was so much more than that. His entire body was covered in muscle and each muscle was tight and hard. There were some faint scars around his body that you could catch in the dim light, but it was still a chiseled, marble perfection.

“Are you done staring?” He asked with an amused voice and you felt your face heat up.

“Oh- um-” You quickly diverted your glance to the carpet as you brought up your hands to the side of your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry- I- I- didn’t mean to stare.”

You heard his footsteps move closer to you until you saw his shoes across from your feet. His hands moved over yours as he brought your face up to meet his. Your eyes searched for his familiar jade orbs and your heart was beating louder against your chest.

His rough lips collided with yours as he kissed you softly, biting at lips. The feeling caused little butterflies in your stomach as you reciprocated the kiss back tasting his lips with your tongue. His warm aroma saturated the air around you. When he felt your tongue, he immediately responded by erasing the space between your bodies and pushing his tongue into your needy mouth. His warm body felt comfortable against your body. He explored your mouth like he did at the wedding, but this time taking the measures to feel and learn every inch. You kissed him back, entering a piece of you into his unfamiliar and enticing territory.

By the time you both pulled away, you were both gasping for air. His forehead gently touched yours as your hands fell from your face. His right hand grabbed your left hand as he brought it up to his lips. He gently kissed your hand and held it in his. The warmth quickly traveled around your body like an infection.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “You have no idea how long I waited for you.”

---

Note: This chapter was getting too long and I had to cut it here. Next up is their first bed night, I promise. Thank you for the likes and comments on the prologue. Please share any feedback with me! Thank you for reading!

[adorealeclightwood]

SH Live Review, 3x11: Lost Souls.

I am not ready for this, but here we go. 

I totally forgot Clary was on death row at one point. Damn.

Oh, this recap is hurting my goddamn feelings. 

Simon and Jace on the roof ):

AAAAAAAAAAAAAH ALEC IS UP AND RUNNING. 

WAIT. PAUSE. TIME OUT. HOLD ON. FLAG ON THE PLAY. How much time has passed? Last time I saw Alec, he had a whole arrow in his chest. I know they didn’t just say “fuck it!” and rip it out. Pressing play. 

A decoy? What was that thing?

Why is Jace’s voice so deep? 

Why isn’t he picking up his blades?

JACE WHAT THE FUCK

Ohhh. Oh. Oh man. 

I missed this theme song! THIS IIIIIIIISSS THE HUUUUUUUUUUNT.

Oh my God, Simon with the flashbacks. 

OH MY GOD? He can’t even hurt himself. Fuck, that’s rough. 

Magnus? I’m going to CRY. STOP. 

Jace, don’t you open that door. 

Clary drew him while he was sleeping. Someone get me a drink and some tissues. 

Why does this remind me of that part in Breaking Dawn right before Bella woke up as a vampire? Maybe it’s the lighting. 

Who the hell is that????

BITCH I FORGOT ABOUT JONATHAN LOL. He’s kinda hot.

He’s offering her breakfast like he wasn’t trying to kill her whole crew a few days ago. The nerve. 

Siberia? For what?!

This is so weird. I keep thinking about when he was in Sebastian’s body and he kissed her. Now he wants to be brotherly. Boy bye. 

Clary, it’s cold outside ma’am. 

SHIT Alec is fine. I missed the neck rune. Fuck. Fuck. 

His smile? I’m dead. I am dead. 

YASSSS, MAIA IS BACK!

This is so fucked. I get why she left, but the timing was so shitty. It’s not fair for either of them. 

Simon ):

I am in awe. My man looks incredible. 

Jace literally needs therapy, holy shit. Why is he always by himself? 

“What are you doing?” Oh you know, just redecorating. 

Pauuuuuse. He went through a whole possession, killed innocent people, killed Imogen, damn near killed Clary like three times, begged for them to kill him, stabbed his parabatai, and he still remembers everything. Somebody get him to a psychiatrist ASAP. Pressing play. 

No, Izzy, you really don’t. 

Magnus watching them in the doorway is so precious. I love them. 

Madzie was like “look at the flick of the wrist” and threw a moon lmaooo. She’s too cute. 

Alec doesn’t give one shit about that movie. 

Nana? Excuse me? 

OH GIRL. GET THE FUCK. 

How’d she get in? I thought that hoe was dead? I’m lost. 

You mean to tell me Clary can create runes no one has ever seen, but she can’t activate one to stay warm? Okie-dokie. 

Ah, I see. No magic = no wards. 

WAIT A MINUTE, ARE YOU SEEING WHAT I’M SEEING? ALEC IS ROCKING THE SEASON ONE HAIR. SOUND THE ALARM. THE HAIR/MAKEUP DEPARTMENT HEARD MY CRIES. 

This whole scene is very season one to be honest. 

Oooh, that was an interesting look. 

Alec is such a realist. Jace needs it. 

Jace you know damn well Alec couldn’t kill you. Even after he decided he was going to, he physically couldn’t make himself do it. Lower your voice. 

Both of them have a bit of a death wish if we’re being honest. 

That boss to big brother transition was lovely. 

Damn Izzy, rude much? She’s been in your face for two seconds, chill out. 

GIRL. That was uncalled for. 

Jonathan can’t warm her up either? Well damn. 

Can Iris quit popping up? I almost dropped my fucking cheetos. 

WHAT THE- *sigh*. 

Clary looks mad as hell. I’m hollering. 

STOP. PAUSE. “We’re not that different, you and me.” Guys, I hate that line. Let me turn my caps lock on so you can hear me. I FUCKING HATE THAT LINE. I cringe whenever I read or hear it. It’s overused and...ugh. This whole try-to-make-the-villain-relatable trope needs to die. Every time a character says some shit like that, it’s always a situation where they’re the exact opposite of the person they’re trying to relate/compare themselves to. My blood is officially boiling and my skin is definitely crawling. Next. 

Having shitty parents doesn’t mean you get a pass to try and kill people, Jonathan. 

What is Luke doing in a hotel? I’m lost again. 

Who is Ollie? What?

Luke is such a cop. Look at that wall. 

Oh my God, this dialogue. They’re going the this-dude-sounds-crazy-but-he’s-absolutely-right route. Yawn.

I want Iris dead. 

WELL DAMN. 

My head is spinning. When did Rafael get to Detroit? 

Why is Heidi still alive? Loose ends, tsk tsk. 

Pause. When I hear “oldest vampire in the world”, I think of Klaus Mikaelson. Now I’m crying again. 

“ArE tHe LeGeNdS tRuE” WE HEARD TEN DIFFERENT CHARACTERS SAY THEY WERE TRUE, JUST TELL US WHO THE VAMPIRE IS SO WE CAN GO HOME, SHIT. 

Magnus got that 264 gigabyte memory. 

He knows it’s a trick though, right? Right?

I’m willing to bet money that’s not Madzie. 

I KNEW IT. I FUCKING KNEW IT. 

I forgot she could throw the whip!

Gia ain’t shit. 

Alec and Magnus stay circling each other like cats. 

LMAOOO HIS FACE. 

Can Simon and Maia kiss and make up already? My chest hurts. 

Jonathan was gone all night and came back with a few twigs for firewood? BOY IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS OUT THERE AND GRAB SOME LOGS. 

CLARY ARE YOU SERIOUS? DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THE MARK LILITH GAVE YOU? You literally held a knife to your own throat and threatened to kill yourself in order to kill Jonathan. Remember!?

Girl, I guess. 

We really hit the ground running huh? I have so many questions. 

[irelise]

the yew tree 2.4-5/?

Erik has worked with Sebastian Shaw, mutant revolutionary, ever since Shaw rescued him from human experimentation when he was a boy. He is reluctantly enlisted to assist in Shaw’s newest scheme: seducing the wealthy and enigmatic Lord Xavier and claiming his vast fortune. With Shaw posing as Xavier’s doctor, Erik goes undercover as Xavier’s personal manservant to convince him to fall in love with Shaw.

But Xavier has secrets of his own, and it isn’t long before Erik starts having second thoughts about the whole thing…

(the handmaiden inspired au - no canon knowledge required

part one now on ao3!

and click here for the beginning of part 2!)

Warnings for this part: Major warning for suicide and suicide ideation, sexual exploitation of children, depression, referenced human experimentation Rating: M Word count: 4328 Notes: I’ve tweaked the timeline a bit so this part roughly covers Charles from age 7 or 8 up to 12/13. Previous parts will be edited once everything has been finalised! The next part will take us back to (almost) present day with Erik and Shaw. I would super appreciate hearing feedback on whether Part 2 has felt too slow so far since Shaw and Erik haven’t been present - if so I’ll see what parts I can axe and streamline before I post on AO3!

It’s another day. The leaves outside are wilting, brown and dead, and his room is cold. It must be close to winter. Late October? November? He’s lost track of the date again.

Charles burrows deeper into his blankets, resolutely not looking at the clock on the mantle place. He knows he’s expected at breakfast soon, and after that Uncle will take him to the reading hall. Perhaps they will finish the volume on the girl and her schoolmaster. Or perhaps Uncle will lead him to the back of the room, down the trapdoor and into the impenetrable steel walls of bunker. Range tests, he had overheard from Uncle’s mind yesterday, accompanied by a picture of needles and snarling wires.

Somewhere, a bell chimes. Charles closes his eyes.

He’ll get up later.

***

Everyone says he’s a clever boy – even Uncle. Charles wonders why that is. He feels slow and stupid most of the time, drifting hazily somewhere above his own body, unsure if he’s thinking his own thoughts or if it’s someone else’s thoughts pouring through his mind right now. It’s only during his tutoring sessions that Charles feels lucid, and even then he feels guilty for enjoying them, knowing it’s just another way Uncle plans to use him once he’s developed enough knowledge to be an asset.

“Very good, Charles,” Dr. Essex tells him after one lesson. “You’re reading well above your level. Soon you might even be able to help with our work! I can teach you how to design your own experiments, isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes,” Charles says obediently, although he doubts Uncle will ever give him that kind of control. Dr. Essex pats him encouragingly on the arm, and Charles tenses, waiting for Dr. Essex’s touch to go…other places.

He’s read the books. He knows how these things are supposed to happen.

Dr. Essex smiles. “Now, turn over to the next chapter and we’ll start discussing how our current understanding of environmental epigenetics might allow us to salvage something from Lamarck’s utter mess of use-disuse evolutionary theory …”

***

Uncle’s hand rests warm against his back as Charles flops bonelessly onto the ground. The floor of the bunker is icy cold against his cheek. His head swims.

Voices. Everywhere.

Fuck. What had Uncle put into that serum?

“Come back to me, Charles,” Uncle’s voice coaxes him from somewhere far, far away.

Charles hurls himself deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts and minds. Vaguely, he’s aware of a meaty palm slapping across his face. The crack of a belt. Then the coolness of an antiseptic swab against his upper arm, followed by the prick of a needle.

He awakes some time later in his own room. Someone had bathed him, changed his clothes for him, tucked him in. He wonders if they had done other things.

Charles closes his eyes again and tries to return to unconsciousness.

***

He’s replacing me with that boy.

Maybe it’s better this way.

***

The lab again. His bare chest is cold. Uncle is done with him for the day, but he doesn’t unstrap him from the examination table.

“I’m arranging your debut,” Uncle tells him.

No, Charles thinks. “Okay,” he says.

“What would you like to read?”

Behind the walls that shield his mind, Uncle’s amusement curls dark and poisonous, just as it had during all those times he had told Charles to go cut his own switch. Something in Charles flares.

“I really would rather not,” he says coolly, imperious.

“Oh, Charles,” Uncle sighs. “You agreed to cooperate, remember? You chose to be here.”

Charles turns his face away and refuses to answer.

Uncle turns away. His footsteps echo through the bunker, growing fainter and fainter.

The doors slam shut.

Alone in the dark, Charles rubs his wrists bloody against the restraints. Time is meaningless. He’s left there until his stomach gnaws clean through itself from hunger, until his heart starts racing uncontrollable in the claustrophobic darkness, until his bladder is so full that he can’t hold it in any longer and he has to lie there in his own piss, red-faced with shame, his eyes burning and prickling.

He won’t cry. He won’t.

***

“…You will remember at all times that you have lost all right to privacy or concealment…”

He studies. He goes down to the lab. He reads. He loses track of the date again.

The night of his debut comes. Uncle dresses him in a schoolboy’s uniform, a relic of the life he had led before the mansion. He follows Aunt into the reading room. It’s fuller than ever before, with almost a dozen men lounging about the seats, each smartly dressed in a suit and tie, smoking and talking among themselves, indistinguishable from each other. As he walks to the dais, their attention presses suffocatingly down on him. Nice legs – cute face – virgin? – has Marko fucked him yet – Charles breathes out slowly, trying to block out the images of himself straddling them, being pushed to his knees...

Aunt’s face is beautiful and serene, her painted lips curved into an enigmatic smile. Her mind is a flawless, polished mirror, letting nothing in, letting nothing out.

Charles copies her as well as he can.

“…In your presence I will never close my lips completely, or cross my legs, or press my knees together…”

He reads as Uncle had taught him – smoothly, like a ribbon, like a silken rope – with just a touch of virginal shyness. The men lean forward. Their lips are parted, their legs spread, their eyes hungry.

“…My one and only duty is to lend myself. My body is not my own…”

***

What will happen when he doesn’t have need of me anymore?

***

The trees are stark and bare when Uncle leaves on a business trip. Charles sees freedom stretch gloriously in front of him: no readings, no tests, no disciplinary measures. He can spend all day with his nose buried in a book and no one will care. Dr. Essex has been giving him more and more advanced material lately, and Charles thinks that if only he can show everyone what he’s reading, show them how science can explain even the strangest and scariest things, then people won’t be so afraid anymore. They won’t hate people like Raven and Hank and Angel. They won’t hurt people who are different.

Instead, Charles sleeps in. Ten, twelve hours. Fourteen. Time loses meaning.

He sleeps until he’s tired from too much sleep, until his back hurts and his eyes are gritty and sore. There’s a constant throbbing ache at the back of his eyeballs. His temples. The base of his skull.

Sometimes people try to wake him. But he learns quickly that if he just closes his eyes again and mumbles something about being sick, they’re quick to leave him alone.

He thinks something might be wrong, but it’s easier to just sleep.

***

It hurts. Charles curls up in his blankets, clutching his head. It feels like – like someone is driving a knife through the side of his head. Every single movement makes his head pound and he bites back a whimper, fingernails digging into his scalp like he can reach inside and rip the pain out.

Without warning, his bedroom door slams open. Uncle looms in the doorway, returned from his business trip. Charles is supposed to be at the lab with him right now. “You’re late,” Uncle growls, and Charles flinches away.

“I’m sick,” he whispers.

He shrinks deeper into the blankets as Uncle’s heavy footsteps come closer. Uncle presses one hand to his forehead, feeling for fever. Even that small motion sends another spike of pain flashing white behind Charles’ eyes. His head throbs in time with the rapid, nervous flutter of his pulse.

“Your temperature’s normal,” Uncle says dismissively. “Don’t lie, boy, I know you’ve been lazing around in bed for days. Get up.”

“I can’t!”

Uncle drags him up anyway, forcing Charles to stumble along, eyes squeezed shut. Everything is so bright and loud. “So much fuss over a headache,” Uncle mutters to himself as he shoves Charles through the reinforced doors of the bunker, “it’s a miracle anyone puts up with you. Go on. Strip. Get on the table.”

The harsh lights of the bunker are blinding. There’s a sour taste at the back of his throat, his stomach roils; without warning, he starts to retch, choking on watery fluid and acid.

When he’s done, Uncle backhands him across the face. Charles stumbles and falls. He could climb back to his feet, but what’s the point?

“Why?” He asks weakly. The pain stabs deeper than ever. “Why are you even doing all this?”

“Table. Now.”

Charles has enough of obeying. For the first time in his memory, he consciously wills the power inside him to reach out, to scoop out Uncle’s thoughts and feelings. Uncle always has walls around his mind but Charles batters at them now, reckless in his despair.

The walls shatter.

It’s like falling into an ocean storm. Uncle’s emotions crash over his head, waves black as tar and flecked with bloody foam. Hatred, disgust, fear…

Lust. Greed. Want.

Charles tries to detangle their minds, but it’s Uncle who holds onto him, forcing picture after picture into his head of all the things he wants to do to him.

“Stop it,” Charles gasps, still lying on the floor. He tries to scramble away, horrified. He can’t. He can’t.

Abruptly, the flow of images stops. Walls slam around Uncle’s mind again, and he looks down at Charles scornfully. “Found what you were looking for, boy?”

Charles hugs himself, shaking. His head feels like it’s about to explode. “I don’t understand,” he babbles, too worn-out to care about making sense. He floats somewhere above his own body. “You don’t make sense. You hate me so much, but you still– you still want me. And my powers. I felt it.”

Uncle’s hands scoop him up like he weighs nothing. He walks the short distance to the examination table, ignoring Charles’ weak thrashing as he dumps him onto the table and begins to methodically secure him in place with the straps. Moving around so much hurts. By the time Uncle starts attaching electrodes to his scalp, Charles had closed his eyes, trying to keep still. Even then, the bunker’s lights stab harsh and bright through his eyelids.

“Hmm,” Uncle says after a while. “No significant changes in brain activity that I can see. But I don’t think you’re faking your symptoms, are you?”

Obviously not. But talking to Uncle never helped before, and it won’t start helping now. As Uncle muses over the tests he should run next, Charles retreats deeper into his mind, returning to his memories of Raven and Hank and Angel. It’s only fair – right? That what happened to them is happening to him too? It’s all his fault. He should have done something sooner. Something more.

It’s fair.

***

He’s spending more and more time with the boy.

I’m being replaced.

***

The headache goes away. Then it comes back. Again and again, an endless cycle without rhyme or rhythm. For the first few months Charles preoccupies himself with keeping a journal in his child’s scrawl, tidy for his age, trying to narrow down the cause of the stabbing headaches. It’s almost like a puzzle. For the first time in months, he’s excited by something. It feels good to have a problem he can work on.

Time passes. Nothing changes. Why bother, he thinks once, setting down his pen and resting his head against the crook of his folded arms. He’s so tired.

Slowly, the entries dwindle, then stop.

His bedroom is dark, the curtains drawn. Uncle has learnt to leave him alone on these days, when the pain interferes too much with the tests and his reading comes out clumsy and lifeless. In a way, these are his most peaceful days. Charles drifts somewhere above his own body, disconnected from the small, pale boy on the bed. Thoughts hum all around him, quiet enough that their emotion is dulled, and they wash over him like waves on the shore of a pristine white beach, lapping harmlessly against his bare feet.

Sometimes, he wishes he could drown in those waters.

Sometimes, he wishes for a lot of things. It’s worst on those days when he guiltily sinks into the minds of the mansion’s inhabitants and the people of the nearby town, curling up wary and cat-like at the back of their skulls, seeing through their eyes and savouring a brief taste of their lives.

More than anything, he wants to find others like him. People who are…different. But they’re better off somewhere else, somewhere far from Uncle. In every mind he encounters, he implants the quietest of suggestions to stay away stay away stay away from the big mansion in Westchester…

(He never, ever tries to enter Uncle’s mind.)

***

Charles freezes the second he enters the lab, whirling around to face Uncle, shocked and afraid. “You promised,” he says accusingly.

“Oh?”

“You promised! You won’t run the tests on anyone else! I can feel him, you have a boy in the cells!”

Uncle gives him an approving look. “Your range is improving. Come with me. Shall we meet him?”

The boy is sitting docilely in the cell. He’s drugged; Charles can recognize the glazed look in his eyes and the strange floaty feeling of his mind. Even when Uncle unlocks the cell, the boy doesn’t so much as glance their way.

“Why is he here? What do you want with him?”

“You remember all those tests we ran on your brainwaves.” As Uncle talks, Charles can’t help rubbing at his scalp, remembering the clinging electrodes and the prick of needles. “I think I’ve identified specific patterns that manifest whenever you use your unnatural ability. Today, I’m going to induce those patterns in that boy. We’ll see if anything interesting happens.”

“You can’t– you promised–!”

Charles doesn’t like the way Uncle is smiling. Not one bit. “So I did. But I can’t let this boy go now, can I? He knows too much. Unless…”

There’s a trap closing around him, but better him than an innocent. Charles braces himself. “Unless?”

“Make him forget. I know you can do it.”

Charles looks at him, teeth clenched. “That’s what you wanted to do all along. You don’t really want to run tests on him at all.”

“Reading me again, boy?”

“No,” Charles snaps. “Just logic.” He’ll never read Uncle again. Ever.

“So? Are you going to do it?”

“I can’t, I don’t know how to. My power doesn’t…”

Uncle scoffs. “Don’t be silly. I know what you can do. You’ve been manipulating the staff, haven’t you? When you don’t want to be found, they don’t find you. When you want to be left alone, they leave you alone.”

What? “I haven’t! I wouldn’t!”

“Enough of your lies. Unless…” He crouches down. Charles makes himself meet his eyes, and Uncle smiles darkly. “Now this is interesting. You must be doing it unconsciously. You’re such a good boy, you wouldn’t be using people on purpose, would you?”

“I’m not like you,” Charles retorts, and immediately regrets his boldness. But Uncle only chuckles.

“Good boy. Now. Are you going to do it or shall I get the machines ready?” Uncle jerks his head at the boy inside the cell, then grips Charles by the shoulder and turns him around, forcing him to look at one of the machines, a hulking monstrosity bristling with wires and probes. Charles has been in it before. He knows it hurts.

“If I do it… You’ll really let him go?”

Uncle smiles the smile of someone who knows they’ve already won. “I will. You must know you’re the only one I’m really interested in, Charles. My good boy.”

Charles nods tightly. Uncle unlocks the cell door for him, unceremoniously shoving him inside. Charles feels a spike of panic, wondering if this is all a ploy to lock him away forever, but Uncle leaves the door open.

The boy inside the cell stirs. “No,” he mumbles, “don’t wanna.”

“Shh.” Charles rests a hand on the boy’s forehead. They’re about the same age, the same height – the boy even looks like him. Uncle must have spent ages picking him out.

Charles looks into the dull blue eyes and pushes, falling into the boy’s hazy thoughts. He’s from the town. An orphan. No one will miss him if he disappears. He’s been here since last night and all his memories are dark and muddled. He hasn’t seen Uncle’s face clearly.

It won’t be hard to take those memories. To wind them up like fragile old cobwebs and rip. Maybe it would even be a nice thing to do? The boy can’t be afraid of something he can’t remember.

But Charles can’t. Instead, he visualizes a white shroud draping over everything the boy remembers since yesterday evening. He bundles all those memories up carefully, very carefully, smoothing them into a peaceful white void. It’s the kindest thing he can think of doing.

Don’t be afraid, he tells the boy, mind-to-mind. Just sleep, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything when you’re asleep.

He pulls back gently, and when he opens his eyes again, the boy is sound asleep. Uncle watches him with a frown, and Charles meets his eyes evenly. He feels curiously calm. He’s done something which shouldn’t be possible. He’s done something he shouldn’t have done. He’s just changed someone’s mind, maybe forever. “What are you going to do with him?”

“I’ll have someone drop him off where we found him. He’ll be asked a few questions when he wakes up, we’ll see if he remembers anything.”

“Okay.” Charles takes a step forward. His eyes never leave Uncle’s. “But you broke your promise.”

Uncle doesn’t say a word.

“Don’t do it again.” His head is pounding. “If you do it, I’ll break my promise too.” He wills Uncle to listen. “Don’t do it again.”

“Fine.” Uncle’s voice is strangely hollow. “We’ll both keep our promises.”

***

Uncle comes to his bedroom the next night, when the grounds are dark and the moon the thinnest of slivers in the sky. Charles draws the blankets tightly around himself as he sits up, his heart thumping rabbit-fast. He crosses his legs and presses his knees tightly together. Uncle gives him an amused look, but then his mouth thins.

“That boy from yesterday… What did you do?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

Uncle’s eyes glitter; he looks – intrigued. “His mind is empty. He can’t stay awake. What did you do, Charles?”

Charles’ own mind whites out. From very far away, he hears himself say: “What do you mean, empty?”

“Empty. You scooped everything right out of him.”

No no no. This is all wrong.

“I didn’t, I can’t have…”

Uncle must be lying. He must be. Just like he – he lied about Raven and Hank, he must have, Charles has looked and looked and he hadn’t found anyone who knew them, much less killed them…

“I didn’t!” Charles insists, and Uncle shakes his head pityingly.

“Get some sleep. We’ll run more tests tomorrow. You can’t let this happen again.”

***

He just –

He wants to sleep.

He doesn’t want to wake up again. He wants it so fiercely that his chest hurts.

***

He doesn’t have a use for me anymore.

He won’t leave loose ends lying around.

***

Adults, Charles had long ago learnt, enjoy showing off their children. His mother had done it, presenting him at dinner parties where her friends could praise him on his good manners and his academics. (Of course, that was before she had him packed off to boarding school where he wouldn’t disturb her.) Now Uncle is doing it too. After another successful night of reading – where did Aunt go? She was there just a moment ago… – Uncle has wrapped a paternal arm around Charles’ shoulder and is now in the process of introducing him to all his associates.

“A lovely voice, truly remarkable,” one of them compliments him with a tip of his wineglass. “You’ll give us marvellous entertainment in a few years’ time.”

How dare he. Charles isn’t a – a thing, a songbird to perform on Uncle’s command. He won’t be here in a few years’ time. He’s about to snap–

But his power had already reached out of its own accord, slipping across the man’s mind and coming away tarred with his eagerness to humiliate, to dominate. Charles averts his eyes and gives him a bland smile. “Thank you, sir,” he says.

Polite. Demure. Charming, but with little personality. Someone of absolutely no interest.

“Meek little thing, isn’t he?” One of them says to Uncle. His mind is red and cruel, his eyes raking hotly over Charles’ body. Charles can’t help shrinking back, and Uncle draws him closer, possessive. The man continues: “That’s no proper way for a boy his age to behave. You should let me train him out of it.”

He doesn’t need shame in his position, the man is thinking. His mind is filled with sense-memories of Aunt’s white skin splitting open, the coppery spray of blood, the curves of her body spread out on display.

Charles musters his best smile, boyish and innocent. “Uncle gives me so much training, I can’t possibly take on more.” He leans against Uncle suggestively even as he tries not to shiver, his skin crawling.

The man chuckles and waves him away, sufficiently entertained.

And so it goes. For each new man he’s introduced to, Charles skims lightly over their mind and adjusts accordingly. He flows from mood to mood, from virginal innocence to polite, well-bred formality to lively charm to something…else, a being of coy smiles and alluring glances loaded with meaning, the sort of nymphet he’s read to all these men about. Asking for it, just look at him, one of the men thinks, his eyes fixed on Charles’ lips.

Charles holds onto the comforting thought that Uncle is too possessive to let any of these men touch him.

Eventually, the night ends with Aunt still missing. Uncle personally brings him back to his bedroom, his hand a constant heavy pressure against the small of Charles’ back. “Let me help you get ready for bed,” he says, and Charles can’t stop trembling. In the darkness of the room, Uncle has him stand by the bed as his fingers go to the first button of Charles’ collared shirt.

He stands deathly still as Uncle undoes the buttons one by one. As his shirt falls unceremoniously to the floor, Charles closes his eyes.

Is this going to be the rest of his life? Forever?

***

I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.

Charles huddles in his bed, arms thrown over his face, shaking uncontrollably.

I need to get out of here.

Just let me escape.

Please. Let me escape.

I’ll do anything.

His cheeks are wet and hot.

I don’t want to wake up again.

***

The next day, they find Aunt’s body. She hangs from a silken rope, her neck snapped, her feet dangling off the ground. Above her, the yew tree looms black against the boundary of the estate.

 5. “Did you kill her?”

“Did you?”

He and Uncle stare at each other in the harsh sunlight that slants through the windows of Uncle’s study. Charles is the first to look away.

“I can’t help you anymore,” he says. “I’m never using my telepathy again.”

“You think you did it? Influenced her?”

“I don’t know.”

He could look. Uncle’s mind is walled up tight as always, but he’s stronger now. He can break down those walls. Uncle has the means and – he knows from the stray wisps of thought he had stolen from Aunt’s mind – he has motive.

He could look, but he doesn’t.

He’s too afraid of what he’ll find.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Uncle is saying. “You’ve always had poor control, and we’ve recorded plenty of incidents where you subconsciously use your telepathy. A whole library’s worth of them, in fact.”

“I’m never using it again.”

“You can’t turn it off,” Uncle says frankly. “You’re using it even now, aren’t you?”

It’s true. It’d be like trying to turn off his hearing – utterly impossible. Even if he can’t read Uncle he still gets a faint sense of his presence, a prickling awareness at the back of his mind that he can’t sever.

“I’ll find a way.”

“Why? Your gift is a wonderful one. Imagine if everyone could communicate mind-to-mind like you do – no more misunderstandings, no more wasting hours on arguments…”

No more fear of the unknown. No more fear of those who are different.

It’s so hard to remember why those things are important, but Charles clings to them the best he can.

Uncle continues: “Really, your only problem is your control. You may never develop it to a sufficient level, so you see why it’s important for you to stay here. At home. You’ll have a hard time finding a place more isolated than this mansion. Can you imagine what’ll happen if you lose control in a city?”

Charles looks out of the window mutely. Uncle nods. “That’s right. And I do promise you, Charles, if I can’t find a way to control your telepathy, I’ll help you get rid of it. One way or the other. Do we have a deal?”

Outside, the yew tree is a dark stain on the grounds. Charles thinks about a fluttering rope of silk, a noose.

He has an escape if he’s brave enough to take it. He always had. Maybe it would even be the selfless thing to do. Nothing good can come from giving Uncle more and more chances to run experiments on him.

“Do we have a deal?” Uncle barks, impatient.

Charles has never been brave enough. “Yes,” he says quietly.

(next part)

[darknesslioness]

THE HALLOWEEN CAULDRON - PART 2

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Tonight, I have some sketches to make you all awwww at cuteness and shiver in horror.

TONIGHT, I have three posts for you.

The first, a collection of warmth and cold.

The second, an illustration of a story told.

And the third, a nightmare to unfold.

Behold, the Second.

Here, I have illustrated a scene from an role play that @freckleocalypse and I did together soon after the release of my Venom Trials sketch post. Freckle’s Abel decided to keep his symbiote, Toxin, and the two have been bonding over different things ever since.

So, here I have edited and cut out a scene from our RP that the drawing originates from. Enjoy!

NOTE: Responses from the RP (both from me and Freckle obviously) have been edited together in order to create a smoother story flow.

Context: In a forest close to the kingdom’s castle, Toxin and Abel are currently in a hunting competition with Phage, who has taken full control of Sebastian. Phage has just taken off in another direction, while Abel, with his symbiote Active around him, continue forward in search of their own prey.

“DEAL.” With a shark’s smile and fiendish glare, Phage agrees. The symbiote then vanishes from their presence, almost noiseless now, as Toxin senses it traveling farther and farther away from them at frightening speed.

Not one to be shown up, Toxin focuses on another direction, ironically along the forest ruins of its past rampage. Strictly ignoring that fact, it concentrates on the hunt, merging its advanced senses with its host’s.

Abel’s vision blurs and warps, eyes dilating in a way completely unnatural from the norm. His sight becomes sharper, clearer, and even magnifying. Clouds and shapes of gradienting colors erupt from almost every point of focus as they take in by sight and by scent the pulsing life-force and chemical output of every living thing within a large radius around them. Such a sensory overload should have been mind-breaking for any human, but the symbiote’s mind acted as a filter for his, sorting through the different signatures for Abel and merging its mind enough with his own to make it capable of comprehending the sheer amount of data.

Amazed by the new sense of sight, Abel looks around excitedly before focusing on a certain cloud that drifts past them, quickly turning to follow it. Toxic Abel jumps silently from tree to tree as they move further away from Phage and the first boar’s corpse. Roaming a bit, Abel finally comes to a stop, hidden in an oak that overlooks the forest floor. He remains silent and tries to keep Toxin as quiet as possible when they see a boar almost as big as a cow wander past, its tusks huge and chiseled from hundreds of battles and it’s hide prickly and scarred. Abel finds no trouble in keeping Toxin silent in the approach, its hunting instinct taking hold.

A wide grin tugs at their face as Abel watches the boar silently. After waiting for the perfect moment to strike, he quickly leaps down right on top of the massive beast and kills it instantly with a spear-shaped claw driven straight into its head.

The animal collapses under them, one leg breaking as it is bent at an odd angle under the sudden force of the weight upon it. Not that it mattered, as the pain center was destroyed with the forceful stab, the rest of the brain quickly dying after it.

Toxin quickly has their teeth snapping, their jaws salivating at the fresh kill, but it pauses before its instincts could drive it forward. Restrained, it eyes the glistening blood draining from the hole in the animal’s skull, growling a bit before it starts a strained request.

“IF YoU DoN’T MiNd …”

Abel shudders a little at the thought of what Toxin intended to do before smiling again.

”H-Hey, I won’t be needing the head. Go crazy.”

The symbiote had enough insight and sense to lock Abel out from all his senses before letting hungry instinct take over, jaws widening and lunging forward to quickly shatter the boar’s head with an effect similar to Phage’s. Still perched on the huge boar’s humped back, it pulls their head back, seeking to tear the top of the boar’s skull off. The neck of the hog is quickly pulled back to an unnatural angle, a snapping series of pops and cracks sounding from the boar’s neck before the skull cap finally rips free in a spray of blood.

Bone and hide start to be pulverized and liquidized between acid teeth as the boar’s head thumps heavily back against the ground, a damaged brain sliding and hanging in ropy lumps off the side of its head by the brain stem.

The drive to consume surges at the sight of the prized grey matter covered in red, and Toxin has scarcely swallowed before it snatches up the vital organ in their foaming jaws and rips it completely free of the skull. It savors the taste for a moment before greedily gorging it all down their throat. It growls loudly in satisfaction as the chemical compounds within the muscle immediately begin to sate a portion of its hunger and begin to fuel the strength and mass of its symbiotic matter.

Its predatory instinct fading a bit, it regards the rest of the head before scoffing at it, uninterested. Making a clean cut at the neck, slicing through flesh and bone just as easily as Phage had with his boar, it grabs the large snout and tosses the head’s remains into the distance between the trees, a trail of raining blood following after it. It begins licking and wiping their face and body clean of gore as it lets Abel’s mind back out of its shuttered state.

After a moment, Abel decides to speak up, his distorted voice leaving their shared mouth as Toxin finishes licking their killing claw clean.

”You didn’t have to block my senses off like that.” He smiles a little as he climbs off the boar and picks its body up over their shoulder to carry it.

“I’Ve haVe LoNG LeArNeD ThAt MoST HuMAns Are . . . SenSITiVe … To OuR FeEdInG HaBiTs, EsPeCiAlLY WheN It Is TheIr BoDY DoInG The EAtiNG.”

”Heh, thanks for considering that, Tox.” Abel smiles more before looking around.

”We should probably find Phage and see if he caught anything. Something tells me we won.”

Toxin grimaces at the notion of rejoining its pest of an uncle, barely keeping their claws from stabbing into the boar in its fierce dislike. Luckily, its gaze catches onto a cluster of distinct life signs about half a mile off, deeper into the woods. Zooming in to watch the shapes bob and strut amongst the chorus of other pulsing life, it grins. The tendrils along their back begin to snake around the boar’s body on their shoulder, beginning to wrap around it like dozens of inky, red, boa constrictors.

“WhY StOP NoW? ThErE’S STiLL PlEnTy MoRe HuNTinG To BE DONe.”

Looking over to the new life, Abel frowns a bit.

”I don’t know….I guess we could do one more before finishing up. Just remember the rules, Phage has to follow them and so do we.”

Toxin doesn’t reply as its tendrils finish completely covering the boar, the red tentacles fusing together in a seal. And then, smaller tendrils shot out of the top of the symbiote encasement, latching onto the limbs above like web-like strings. Abel can feel the roots of the tendrils encasing the boar detached from their back as the red, fleshy strings automatically pull the boar from their shoulder and into the tree above. Barely any time passes before the tendrils they lost are replaced with new ones, growing from their back to sway and writhe behind them again.

Taking the permission gladly, Toxin takes the reins, leaving their first catch behind safely in the tree and sprinting them through the trees towards their next target.

In a small, grassy clearing, fat bodies of feathered brown, grey, and black parade and bob, yelps and gobbles following them through the tall grass. Several toms and jakes occupy the little field, puffing out feathers and beards, coloring their necks, and spreading tails and wings as they size each other up and strut before the females in a show of dominance in size and grooming. The outnumbering females pick and peck between tuffs of grass for nuts and seeds, seemingly uninterested in the showy suitors.

One heavy weight rules them all, the other gobblers keeping distance and lowering their displays when his is turned to them in threat. This one flaunts its size and perfect plumage freely and radiates confidence, having already mated with half of the hens present. He sets his eyes on another prospect, a large female that had only just arrived, yanking out the roots of the sweet grasses.

He immediately starts to strut before her once he gets close enough, showing off the shine of his feathers and the width of their barb. She shows little interest over her rich feeding. He ups his game and steps to the side, circling her in a careful dance. She lifts her head and watches with mild interest at his footwork, showing that he is no amateur. He puffs up a little bit more and plays a bit of drumming in his chest for her, slowly coming closer when she doesn’t move away with his advances. Her head turns left and right as she eyes him, sizing him up for herself. She is no amateur either in this game and will only accept the best.

He sways a bit on his feet as he steps forward luxuriously and emits a series of spitting sounds to finish off his booming drum. Finally, her interest seems caught by his musical dance and she moves forward, beginning to circle him. He circles back, their spiraling bringing them closer and closer to each other until they face each other a foot away.

Long, massive claws strike the ground between them, goring the earth and shredding grass.

”MaY I CuT In?”

Toxin hisses as the two turkeys, along with the rest of their group, flutter into a startled panic, frantically beating their wings to take to the air in escape.

The symbiote holds its and Abel’s attention on the big male, watching the terrified womanizer take flight and gain some distance from them before it laughs.

”Or MaYbE CuT OFF?”

With a powerful spring of their legs, it shots them into the sky, rapidly closing distance of the head-start that the alien had given the bird. The fast, heavy beat of its wings, the cloud-dotted sky emerging over the trees, and pure terror are the last things the turkey perceives as its head spins higher into the air, suddenly detached from its falling body with a rain of red.

Toxic Abel lands back down upon the grassy earth with agility and grace, not a claw out of place as they meet the ground like a dismounting panther.

The fat, feathered body hits the ground with a heavy thud and a falling trail of blood and feathers. Even headless, it continues to flap its wings and claw at the ground in vicious twitches, staining a red circle in the grass.

With a grin, Toxic Abel crouches not far from it, watching. Then, without even having to look up, it throws back their head and parts their jaws wide just in time to catch the turkey’s falling head and neck, its teeth snapping shut as they swallow it whole, beak and all. The other turkeys had only just all disappeared into the trees that moment.

”AAaahhh, FeAr. The BeSt KiND oF SeAsONiNG, EvEn If OnlY A SpRiNkLiNG FoR ThiS One.”

While Toxin enjoys the turkey, Abel tries to keep himself from gagging.

”O-Okay … m-maybe blocking my senses when you eat isn’t such a bad idea …”

Thanks for reading! This excerpt was from a collab role play with @freckleocalypse. Give her some love!

THE HALLOWEEN CAULDRON - PART 3

[thrandilf]

So Distracting Ch 7

The DA2 crew on an adventure

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000896/chapters/35367981

Qunari pirates were the problem of the week. Hawke led his rogues plus Merrill, Anders, and Fenris to The Wounded Coast. It was a full day cross country trek, but traveling with Hawke and the company he kept was never boring.

"You gotta give me SOMETHING," pressed Varric, trailing behind Anders and Fenris. The wild coast was a pleasant walk filled with trees and sunshine when not overrun with bandits and slave traders and one could almost pretend they were out for a picnic if it wasn't for all the heavy armor and weaponry. "Hawke has his romantic comedy going on with his fish out of water over there, but you two? You hated each other! You're angsty! It's what people want."

Merrill wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a fish!"

Anders was used to having a reputation for sexual trysts and tricks, but it hadn't mattered before. And now, with someone like Fenris? "I'm not saying a thing. You'll have better luck getting details on Prince Charming's quite dead love life."

"Don't need 'em!" Varric grinned, teasing. "He's handsome, pure hearted, fierce, faithful, probably good with kids- and completely unattainable. Someone has to stay single for the ladies and a few gentlemen to guiltlessly pine for. He's perfect."

Prince Sebastian laughed, a blush creeping over his face. "I'm a mere chantry brother, Varric. Nothing so high and divine as you say."

"Humble too. Maker, you do it on purpose or what?"

"If only you'd come into my life before I swore my love to Andraste, Varric!" Sebastian playfully pretended to swoon. "In a different life-"

"Oh if only- my rogue in shining armor-"

"Good GOD you two!" exclaimed Hawke over a few giggles. "Varric, aren't you straight?"

"I like to keep people guessing."

Fenris rolled his eyes at the bantering and teasing, but a smile threatened to appear on his face. Never before Kirkwall had his companions been so filterless and free with affection and insults. He watched as Hawke led the group like an exasperated mother hen, as if their verbal entertainment wasn't at least half the reason he brought them anywhere. Merrill and Isabela followed him with arms around each other's waists, Merrill laughing often and Isabela smirking. He wondered if Hawke knew his girlfriend had a crush on Isabela, but then again anyone having a crush on Isabela was nothing new.

"Okay but really, Blondie. You weren't so shy about Isabela putting your electricity trick out there on the table."

Anders sighed. "Drop it, dwarf! Fenris and I-"

"He's loud," stated Fenris. Anders choked and Sebastian suddenly looked away and rubbed his neck while Isabela tuned in with grin. Fenris took Anders's hand in his and shrugged. "You all know we're together. Just stating the obvious."

Varric snorted. "Yes, Broody, I definitely knew that one. Who swept who off their feet?"

Isabela hung back to elbow Varric. "No one sweeps anyone off their feet for hate sex!"

"Correct," said Anders with relief. "No sweeping at all."

"The real question is who said 'shut up' and who said 'make me'!"

Fenris and Anders's silence was telling. Anders squeezed Fenris's hand and flashed a smile. Fenris wished he didn't think that grin was so light and beautiful. "Whatever this is between us, consider yourselves lucky we know how to behave in a camping tent with other people, since there's only two tents," said Anders. "Unlike some people I know."

Merrill giggled and Hawke's ears turned red.

"I wanna be in the shenanigans tent!" declared Isabela, looking at Hawke and Merrill.

"Pass," said Sebastian.

"Pass," said Anders.

"Pass," said Fenris.

"Pass," finished Varric. He looked at his three temporary roommates. "Great, I'm sleeping with a bunch of glow-sticks."

Sebastian shrugged, the metal on his armor glinting particularly bright in the sun. "Just the blessing of the light of the Maker."

The Maker also blessed them with an ogre to fight. The group sprang into action, rogues diving in all directions to confuse it while the mages hung out in the back. Fenris rushed in front alone, swinging his sword with deadly strength and phasing partially into the Fade when the beast swung at him. Isabela took the ogre from behind (ew) and her blades thrust in deep before she sprang back with lightning reflexes. Actual lighting crackled past Fenris's head alongside arrows and crossbow bolts. The ogre roared.

Fenris was the only one it could directly attack- and so it did. He couldn't phase entirely out of a blow and groaned as the ogre's fist collided with his shoulder as he cut into it's thigh. "THIS IS A VERY UNBALANCED TEAM!" he shouted in pain.

Anders's healing magic immediately mended his wound as Isabela took a backhanded hit. "I need healing!" she yelled.

"I need healing!" said Hawke.

"I need healing!" shouted Varric with a smirk.

"I need healing!" Merrill laughed.

"I need healing!" roared Fenris in genuine need as the ogre dislocated his wrist.

"ANDRASTE'S LIPS ON SHARTAN'S COCK!" bellowed Anders, drawing on Justice to heal Fenris first and to instill a stream of healing energy inside the elf. Perhaps Fenris should've taken the healer to bed long ago if this is how he showed his affection. He sank his blade deep into the ogre's chest as Isabela stabbed its neck, killing the beast.

"Ha!" Isabela exclaimed. "Dead!"

Anders scowled and healed her wound, suddenly angling his head up. "My darkspawn senses are tingling!"

A group of darkspawn rushed the party and Fenris charged back, lyrium glowing bright. Darkspawn fell around him from magical blasts and arrows as Fenris ripped through darkspawn in front of him with a snarl. His sword and gauntlets tore and sprayed blood all over his armor and skin as he relished in the gore he could so easily inflict. Anders kept him shielded and healed and Fenris was almost invincible, drunk off the unnaturally murky blood that gushed at his command, the final living head of a darkspawn exploding as he thrust his fist inside the Fade and then caused it to materialize inside the monster's skull, yanking with dark pleasure as it died.

"Holy shit." Hawke stared at Fenris in the center of his blood hurricane. "Remind me to never ever get on your bad side."

They cleaned up and checked for serious wounds- one of which being Sebastian's ears. "Maker, Anders! Could you have said anything more offensive? Andraste's- no I can't even repeat it?"

Anders shrugged. Being both Andrastian and a mage, he danced between devout belief and mandatory blasphemy. "I probably could if you gave me time to brainstorm."

Isabela laughed. "I suspect that particular exclamation came from personal experience?" She eyed Fenris. "Recent experience, perhaps?"

"Oh shut it Isabela!" groaned Anders, albeit without venom. "The priest doesn't need to know how much I like being on my knees!"

"Maker no." Sebastian sighed deeply. "Maker forgive your children..."

Fenris eyed Varric. "Everything you say can and will be used against you, Anders. The dwarf will remember that."

Varric feigned innocence. "Remember what?"

-~-

They set up camp a ways from where they were to make their attack on the pirates before dawn. Isabela, Hawke, and Merrill retired remarkably hastily to their tent and the other four exchanged looks.

"I'll take watch," volunteered Sebastian.

Varric shrugged. "I'm not sleeping yet. I've got fish to fry, quite literally."

"Ew." Fenris moved upwind of the cooking fire Varric was starting and sat by Sebastian. The chantry brother smiled at Fenris and opened his copy of the Chant of Light. It was a wordless invitation and he simply started speaking, not missing how Fenris's eyes followed his voice across the words of the page.

"'Heart that is broken, beats still unceasing,

An ocean of sorrow does nobody drown.

You have forgotten, spear-maid of Alamarr.

Within My creation, none are alone...'"

Sebastian might've irked everyone with his faith or appear too righteous for the likes of their company, but Fenris couldn't help a wave of appreciation for Sebastian wash over him as he let Fenris read alongside him without pushing his beliefs or making a scene of teaching him. Didn't matter that he was an elf, uncertain in his faith, a killer, or anything else.

Fenris was a person, and Sebastian seemed to be one of the few who made him feel just that.

Varric cooked him and Anders dinner in a small frying pan Anders imagined doubled as armor when against his back. "So, Blondie. Justice will let you both eat AND sleep in one evening?"

"Surprisingly, yes." Anders stretched out by the fire, basking in the warmth like a cat and ignoring a high pitched sigh from Hawke's tent. "Possessing a dead body when we first met meant he wasn't prepared for a living one. It's taken time for him to understand my needs beyond activism, but he gets it. Mostly."

Anders flickered blue and Varric huffed. "Seems like he disagrees."

"No, sorry about that." Anders sighed and inhaled the aroma of cooking fish. "I think he still longs to interact with this world more. He appreciates beauty, but feels torn whenever he's distracted from his purpose. A life is going to be many things. Justice, funny as it may be for something usually represented by scales, has no sense of balance."

"So you're trying to teach a Fade spirit to change? What would he be then, a spirit of Freedom?"

Anders paused. He grinned and a flicker appeared on his skin again. "More like indecision is how it feels like. Justice has already changed since joining with me and is confused. Perhaps you're not far off- don't we fight for Justice so others may have freedom?"

Varric served them both their fish and sat back, happy to not have to share his ale with Anders. "I've got characters who talk in my head all the time- call it overactive imagination. I can't imagine a spirit."

"Ha! A lot is direct conversation, but even more so are impulsive and intrusive thoughts." Anders sighed. "Sometimes we really do agree and have the same mind on things, other times it's confusing. My organic impulses tend to be 'run after the stray kitty cat' or 'oh wow, what a good butt', while Justice's impulsive thoughts tend to be 'that's a starving child and I should dump out my pockets for them' and 'gravity is boring outside the Fade'. It's a bit crowded in here."

"Ever think of letting him out to say hello to more people?"

Anders snorted and covered his mouth. "Justice and Sebastian together. Just imagine it."

"Point taken."

"He also has no filter."

"Are you implying YOU do?"

Anders finished his fish and lounged back. Varric took in every word and book ammunition or not, Anders needed someone to listen. "In all fairness, I'm pretty sure Justice has saved my life. He doesn't sleep. Sure my body does and I do, but he's in the back of my mind in case anything happens. He's something of a guardian to me."

"You sound attached- literally."

Anders's grin faded. "Friends are more important than anything, Varric. Maybe I've finally made one no one can ever take away from me."

Varric put a hand on Anders's shoulder. "Look around. You can count more than one, Blondie."

Anders wished he had Varric's certainty.

-~-

Sebastian took first watch as promised as Varric, Fenris, and Anders went to bed. Varric apparently had the dwarvish gift of heavy sleeping and slept almost immediately after unfurling his sleeping mat. Fenris unrolled his sleeping bag and Anders blanched as he looked inside his backpack.

Well, shit. Anders curled up on the ground and rested his head on his hand. Justice sent a small wave of apologetic guilt through Anders. Anders had been tired and rushed to get the clinic together and had been distracted by Fenris- so while Fenris got to go back to his mansion and grab a pre packed bag, Anders and Justice had enough Lyrium potions thrown in their backpack to put on a fireworks show while healing everyone Anders had ever met, but no sleeping bag. Figures.

"Mage?" Fenris propped himself up on his elbow, under his bedding. "What are you doing?"

"I was in a hurry to pack when Hawke showed up and uh, um. Justice forgot too so I don't have a bedroll." Anders squirmed. The evening sea breeze wasn't particularly warm, but he'd live. "I've slept on rocks before, the grass is fine."

"Stupid forgetful idiot!" Fenris's scolding might've sounded more threatening if he wasn't trying to tug Anders into his sleeping bag. "Be useful and get in here."

Anders's heart leapt but he still felt sheepish. "I don't want to impose-"

"Cuddle me." Fenris gave an order rather than a request and Anders grinned. Fenris rolled over and sighed with satisfaction as Anders spooned him and held him close in their bedding, bodies pressed together so Fenris only felt warmth and softness. "Good. This shall compensate for having to share."

Anders's height helped him be a good snuggler, Fenris's head tucked under his and their legs twined together. He kissed Fenris's hair and pet his chest, nuzzling him and pushing up Fenris's tunic to rub his abdomen. It was tactfully under their blanket and facing away from Varric, but not an available route after already teasing Hawke for his displays of affection (made relevant by another moan from the other tent).

"If you arouse me-" growled Fenris under his breath, turning his head back to hiss near Anders's ear, "I'll have you crying and screaming your throat raw over whatever I damm well feel like the next time we set foot in my house."

It occurred to Fenris after Anders shivered and bit hit his lip that maybe growling and threatening a man who liked his growls and threats was not a good way to diffuse the situation. "If I behave myself, can you promise to do that anyway?" murmured Anders. Fenris hoped he was only imagining Anders being turned on behind him.

"If you behave, I'll be open to a great many things. Requests, if you will."

Fenris could hear Anders smirking. "Oooooooh, I could definitely give you ideas." Anders stopped his petting but still cuddled Fenris close. "Alright, lets sleep then."

Fenris, who was generally a horrible insomniac without his alcohol, passed out within minutes of being snuggled in Anders's arms. Anders wished he could sleep as easily, his body eager at the idea of showing Fenris what Anders could do on his knees, or kissing every single line of lyrium and making Fenris's nerves sing with pleasure. He wondered if Fenris would enjoy tying him up-

'Sleep,' rumbled Justice inside Anders's head.

'I can't. You know why. You can feel it too.'

Justice took over partial control of Anders and tuned him into Sebastian reading softly under his breath outside, the words of Andraste and the Maker quelling both Anders's desire and his will to stay awake. Justice also started reciting historical timeline events of the Blights and Anders was gone. 'I'm impressed but not surprised by your capability to kill boners,' thought Anders at Justice before he slipped into the embrace of deep sleep with Fenris.

[luddyskrimsonbootytrash]

Their Last Case [TEW Fanfic]

Disclaimer: I wrote this story long before the actual game came out and when we didn’t know more of Stefano than one picture and a little entry on the Bethesda website. Also: Sexual Themes and Slight Abuse Warning.

Joseph could barely hold his eyes open. He couldn’t differentiate between reality and dream anymore. Was this the real world? Or another trick?

He coughed and tasted blood in his mouth. Then he heard a voice. A voice that became familiar. Was familiar.

“We’ve big plans for you, Joseph. I bet you will love them.”

He wasn’t able to respond. He could barely breathe.

“Don’t worry. We’ll send you back into STEM immediately. You’ll feel better there.”

Joseph woke up in an empty grey hallway. He sat up moaning and rubbed his head. As he looked down on himself he noticed that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. He should search for something to put on…

“My favorite piece of art.” A brunette tall man, wearing a suit and a red scarf, appeared behind him.

“Stefano…” Joseph stood up. “Do you want to kill me again? Last time did really hurt…”

“According to your outfit I would prefer the other kind of art.” He went around him, gently stroking from one shoulder to the other. “You’re such an unconventional beauty, Joseph Oda.”

“They said they’ve got big plans for me.”

“Did they?” Stefano stopped in front of him. “What could be bigger than being part of my art?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t tell me.”

Stefano stroked with one of his red gloves over Joseph’s cheek. “You’re mine. They should know by now.”

“They consider me theirs.” Joseph grabbed Stefano’s hand. “But if I had to choose it would always be you. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do. I know that they keep your body.”

“My body…” Joseph sighed. “I need clothes.”

“I don’t think so.” Stefano stroked over his chest. “I want to draw you like that.”

“Not today. I have to find out what they want to do to me.” Joseph played with his suit jacket. “I don’t want to face it naked.”

“That’s probably a good point. I’ll lend you some clothes. After I am finished with you.” Stefano pinned him at the wall.

“Please don’t be too rough. What if I have to fight?”

“It’s a pity… but I won’t allow anyone else to kill you.” Stefano dragged Joseph into a rough kiss. Their tongues fought while Stefano slowly put a finger into him. Joseph moaned out loud. He got used to it. He even found pleasure in it by now.

When they first met he hated Stefano. On their second met it was all the same. But he learned to love him. All that was left in his life was Mobius. And Stefano. And between those two he definitely preferred the crazy artist. Because despite every kill, every rape, every hurt… Stefano always treated him with love. Made him compliments, claimed him to be his property. And sometimes he could get really sweet. Things that Joseph missed in his former life. The one he loved… he could only watch and do nothing, slowly breaking apart on it.

At first, he was sure that Sebastian would come and safe him. But with every passing day that hope got lost more and more. His former partner had absolutely no reason to come back. At least no reason to come back for him…

So he just enjoyed being Stefano’s muse. Once, on a very good day, they even had a romantic dinner together. Joseph had to smile as he thought about that evening and wrapped his arms tighter around his lover. Maybe they would do that again one day. Not that he would dare to hope it. Hope had become his worst enemy.

“Enough now.”

They hadn’t finished fucking when suddenly a Mobius agent appeared. His face was hidden by the suit. It made Joseph uncomfortable every time.

“Excuse me, don’t you see we’re busy?!” Stefano gave him an angry glance.

“Mister Oda doesn’t have time for you today. He has got something to do.”

“Yes, he has! Being fucked by me.” Stefano snickered and rammed hard into him. It made Joseph cry in pleasure and pain.

The Mobius agent put out a device. Within two seconds Stefano laid unconscious on the floor. Joseph landed on him since they were still connected but the agent ripped him off with a painful pull.

“Put this on.” He gave him some clothes. Joseph’s heart stood still for a second. It was his old uniform. Even the badge was still there. He hadn’t seen this in ages.

“Why…?”

But the agent was already gone as he looked up. After he checked Stefano’s breathing, he put on the clothes. Carefully, he gave him a little kiss on the forehead, before he left the hallway.

Union was dark today. Or maybe it was just his imagination who told him that. He lost his sense for reality a while ago.

“Joseph! Oh my god!”

His senses froze as he heard that voice. No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be real.

He turned around and all he could see was a masculine chest since he got hugged hard. It felt so real… he could feel the body warmth, smell the scent of booze and cigarettes that always covered him…

“I thought I lost you forever.” Sebastian smiled at him and it made Joseph walk back a few steps. Yes, he did look different. Like he aged for some time. Like the loss of everything broke him even more apart. But this couldn’t be him.

“Don’t think I’ll fall for this!”, he screamed. He did fall for this trick way too often.

“W-what are you talking about?” Sebastian went a few steps towards him.

“Don’t touch me!” Never again…

“Okay! Okay, I won’t touch you. But we have to get you out of here!”

“Why can’t you just stop?” Joseph felt tears in his eyes now. “I don’t want to do this again! I won’t fall for this again! Just leave me alone!”

“What… what are you talking about?”

“I know how this works Mobius, I haven’t forgotten!” Joseph now screamed at him. “You used this way too often to ever convince me again! Sebastian will never come to get me! Whatever you want from me, just say it! But stop pretending to be Sebastian!” He put up a stone and threw it right into the man’s face. It left a bloody mark.

“Joseph!”

“Don’t you dare speak my name with his voice!” He threw another stone but this time the guy ducked.

“Joseph, listen to me!”

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Joseph could feel nothing but rage. Why did they have to do this over and over again? Playing with his hopes and desires? Always pretending to be Sebastian when they wanted him to do something and then making fun of him for really thinking his partner would come back…

“Joseph! It’s really me!”, the guy shouted while ducking under all the stones Joseph threw. “I came back into STEM because Kidman helped me! I’m here to find my daughter!”

Joseph stopped. “Lily…”

“Do you know where she is?!”

“Everywhere. And nowhere to be found.” Joseph had to laugh. “That’s a good move… yeah, you would have come back for your daughter.” Now tears were dropping from his eyes. “If you are real then please find my body… and kill it.”

“What?!” Sebastian was with him in seconds and held his shoulders. “I won’t kill you, listen to me! We will go home. Together.”

Joseph couldn’t stop crying anymore. “I can’t leave. I’m connected. My body can’t survive without STEM.” He hated himself for slowly falling for the trick again, actually believing this man to be Sebastian.

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t stay awake for long. Being outside is nothing but pain. Being inside is nothing but pain. I just want to die… but I can’t. I can’t die in STEM. Stefano killed me so many times… and yet I’m still here.”

“Fuck…” Sebastian hugged him again and Joseph closed his eyes, enjoying this moment. It felt good to be held like this. No fear of getting stabbed in the back for wanting to much affection. No fear of being turned into art again. Just a simple warm hug.

As Sebastian let go of him Joseph immediately pushed him back on him, not wanting to already end it.

“Joseph… we need to go. There’s this psycho guy… and this monsters everywhere…”

“Don’t worry. They won’t hurt me. I’ll protect you.” Joseph closed his eyes. “Just let me dream for a few minutes.”

“Joseph… there’s a huge monster right behind you.” He felt Sebastian’s heart beating faster.

“I already said that you don’t have to worry.” Joseph looked up. “Why can’t you just notice me for once?” New tears were dripping down his cheeks.

“Joseph… it’s coming closer…”

Joseph sighed and turned around. Obscura was standing there, focusing them with her camera eye.

“Leave.”, Joseph said. With a slow blink of her camera lens Obscura turned around and left.

“Why… why does this thing listen to you?”, Sebastian asked, taking a step back.

“Now it’s you who doesn’t trust me, huh?” Joseph looked down. “Too bad. I just wanted a hug.”

“I… I just need to know why…”

“Why?” Joseph looked at him. “Why I try to make the best out of my situation?”

“How? Are you… evil now?”

Joseph had to laugh hard on that. “There is no good and evil in Union. This is hell, Sebastian. You just have to arrange yourself to reduce the pain as much as you can.”

“You have an arrangement with that psycho?!”

“You could call it like that.”

“You said that he killed you many times!”

“He did.” Joseph felt tears in his eyes again. “But he also protected me. He… he can be nice sometimes. And he isn’t like Mobius. Mobius just wants to hurt me.”

“But he is hurting you, too!”

“What did you say there, ugly old man?!” Joseph’s blood froze as he heard Stefano’s voice behind him.

“Stop hurting Joseph!” Sebastian aimed a gun on Stefano’s head.

“Bring it on.” Stefano grinned and put out his knife.

“Stop it!” Joseph stepped between them. It was a dumb move and he knew it.

“So you’re cheating on me…”, Stefano growled, coming way too close.

“No!” Joseph shook his head. “He isn’t here for me, just for his daughter!”

“I’m not dumb. Mobius doesn’t use this guy all the time because of nothing! You love him. You love him more than you love me!”

“No! No, that’s not true!” Joseph felt tears in his eyes again. Was that Mobius’ plan? To separate him from the only one left?

“It is true and you know it!” Stefano slapped his face.

“Please, please, please!” Joseph begged on his knees, desperate not to lose him. “I love you! You know that I love you!”

“You don’t love me, you just don’t want to be alone!” Stefano kicked his face. It crooked his glasses.

“I love you.” Joseph crawled onto his shirt. “I love you!”

“You’re such a wretched creature…” Stefano spit on him. “You don’t deserve to be my art.”

“Please…”

“Don’t ever come back to me! We’re done!” Stefano turned around and just left. Joseph couldn’t stop sobbing. That romantic dinner he secretly hoped for… it would never come. He had to throw up and spit mostly blood on the floor.

“Joseph…” He felt Sebastian’s hand on his back.

“Are you happy now…?” Joseph sniffed and wiped over his mouth. “You took the last thing I had.”

“You…. You actually love this guy?”

“I don’t know!” Joseph sobbed in tears, finally looking at him. “I love how he was there for me. How he treated me like I was something special. How he gave me compliments. How he protected me from Mobius. How he allowed me to hold him sometimes… yes, I do love him! In this crazy, fucked up world he was the only one who cared for me!”

“You deserve better than that.”

“There is no better than that!” Joseph screamed at him. “I have been alone for my whole life! If I have to life in this hell, I at least don’t want to do it alone! Now it’s over… he will never invite me for dinner again! The only thing I dared to hope for…”

“Joseph…” Sebastian hugged him again and Joseph just cried on his chest. “I didn’t want to ruin this for you… but you do understand that this isn’t a healthy relationship?”

“It’s not like I have many choices here.” Joseph looked up at him. “I can’t protect you anymore. Leave now.”

“I won’t leave you behind.” Sebastian took his hand. “Not again.”

“You can’t save me. So at least save your daughter, yes?” Joseph forced himself to a sad smile.

“At first I need to know something.” Sebastian placed one hand on his cheek. Joseph noticed that it was bandaged. “Is he right? Do you love me?”

“I love you.” It felt so good to finally say it. To at least put this weight from his chest.

“That’s all I needed to know. I’m going to get you out of here, you hear me? I don’t care how hard it will be. And once we’re out I’ll invite you for dinner.”

“Seb…” Joseph felt even more tears dripping down his cheeks.

“It’s a promise, Joseph. Listen to me? I’m going to cook for you. Put some candles on the table. Hold your hand the whole evening…”

“Stop it.” Joseph moved away from him. “I knew you were Mobius.”

“I’m not Mobius, Joseph. I just want to make you happy.”

Joseph buried his head in his hands. “What have I done to deserve this? I always tried to be a good person. I just wanted to be loved. Why is that such a crime? Why do you punish me like that?”

“I’m not punishing you.” Sebastian hugged him again. “I’ll set you free. I’ll free both you and Lily and then we…”

“Stop it!” Joseph moved away from him again, breathing hard. “If you really want to help me then you’ll have to kill me. There is no other way.”

“There has to be.”

“Look at me!” Joseph stripped all of his clothes away, allowing Sebastian to look at his oppressed body. Almost every inch of it was covered with punctures, penetrated with not only needles from syringes but also wires, hoses and other devices.

“Joseph…” He could see a few tears in Sebastian’s eyes.

“Please… I just want this to end.” Joseph lowered his head. “Even if you’d manage to put me off all devices without killing me… I wouldn’t be able to do anything. My body is too weak. I don’t know if I would be able to speak or recognize something. So please… set me free.”

Sebastian nodded in tears. “I’ll… make it quick for you.”

“Thank you.” Joseph smiled a little, taking his hand again. “I know it’s much to ask for.”

“I don’t want you to suffer.” Sebastian hugged him tight. “But it’s hard losing you again after I just found you.”

“At least you did find me. And in any other life I’d come with you, waiting for you to fulfill your promise.”

Sebastian grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him. Joseph twitched in surprise and then closed his eyes. A kiss from Sebastian. One thing he never dared to hope for. And now it was happening. So sweet, so gentle, so loving. He never wanted it to stop. Wanted to stay like this for all eternity. But of course it wasn’t possible.

Sebastian slowly separated from him. Joseph turned away so that he couldn’t see his deep blush and put his clothes back on. Then he turned back to Sebastian and smiled at him.

“Ready for our last case, detective?”

[imaginedilestrade]

Unitum. (8/12)

Unitum- (Latin) United- adjective; joined together politically, for a common purpose, or by common feelings.

Summary: Two kingdoms wage war against another. You are on one side while Greg stands with another…

Warnings: mentions of fighting and blood.

A/N: SORRY NOT SORRY ABOUT THAT TWIST LAST WEEK! 😱😅 As always, I’d love to know what you guys think 😊 Have a great weekend! ❤️

Missed the last part? Catch up here

——————————

Chapter 8

——————

Your world suddenly stopped.

The snow was suspended in the air and the battling men around you slowed. Your chest felt as if it was concaving in on itself, your head whizzing and whirling with confusion and disbelief.

While in your trance, Greg managed to overthrow you and now he was on top of you, his sword shining and coated in blood and ready to kill you. You snapped back into reality and let go of your sword before quickly removing your helmet before Greg could stab you with his sword. “G-Greg!” You gasped as you removed your helmet.

Greg’s eyes changed, once dark with rage and fury, they grew wide with shock. Both your chests were heaving, you didn’t know what to do.

You were almost thankful hearing horns in the distance. Greg quickly got off of you and you both stood away from each other. In the distance, emerging from the mist and snow, another army. The grey knights.

You turned and saw everyone frozen in place, even though the grey knights were a small army, they could have easily slaughtered all of you.

“Fall back,” you whispered. Your eyes flickered up to Greg who’s hair was getting damp from the melted snow. “Fall back!” You screamed to your men and walked backwards away from Greg.

Greg turned towards his men “Back to the kingdom!” He bellowed and they obeyed his orders.

Your eyes were locked in Greg’s the entire time you walked backwards towards your men. You felt betrayed, then again, that would be hypocritical of you to feel like that. You had kept your heritage from him as much as he kept his from you.

“Captain?” Sebastian’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“A single army cannot fight against the grey knights. We head back, we have to.” You explained before whistling your horse. Gallops travelled towards you and you swiftly got into your horse. You glanced up to Greg for a final time before turning around and heading back to Jim’s kingdom.

—

“Y/N!” Jim uttered your name out for a third time.

You blinked out of your trance and looked up to your brother “Yes my lord?” Your monotonic voice made him raise a brow.

“What is the matter?” He asked and reached for your hand.

“I failed you, I’ve failed this kingdom…” you whispered as tears pricked your eyes. Jim let out a hearty laugh and waved away your comments. You narrowed your eyes at his outburst “Why are you laughing? It’s true!”

“Y/N,” Jim cooed your name and soothingly rubbed your knuckles “You may have had to lose the battle, but you will win the war.”

You froze and gulped “A-Are you declaring war?” You choked out. Jim simply shrugged. Letting out a huff of air, you pulled your hand away from his and stood up “Please excuse me my King, it has been a very long day and I wish to retire to my chambers.”

“Of course,” you didn’t even wait for Jim’s permission as you began to stride out of the dining room, Molly was hot on your heels.

“Ma'am!” She called and ran after you “Ma'am what is the matter?” You stormed into your room and Molly shut the door behind you. Your body hunched over a table and you let it a sob. One hand continued to support you while you pressed the other to your mouth to conceal your cries. Molly placed her hand on your back “Do not worry about having to turn back, my lady it was-”

You cut her off “It’s not about the battle Molly!” You unintentionally snapped “Greg! It’s about Greg!” You sobbed again from the mention of his name.

“But you’ll get to see him again,” she tried to reassure you, completely oblivious to everything.

“No Molly!” You wiped away your boiling tears “He’s the captain of king Sherlocks army…” you groggily admitted.

Molly’s face paled and she gasped “Oh god…I am so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am…” you looked down at the book that was on the table and pried it open. You stopped when you found a pressed honeysuckle flower.

“What will you do now?” Molly curiously asked.

“There’s only one thing I can do,” you took the delicate flower between your fingers and tear fell from your eye “I have to kill him.”

—

You gripped onto your sword so tight that your nicked were becoming numb. Snow crunched under your feet, it had lay during the night in a thick blanket. The bare trees were dusted with a sprinkling of snow and the world around you was white with specks of brown from where the trees bark was exposed. It was silent.

You stood in the spot where you would often meet Greg and waited, you weren’t even sure he was going to turn up. The look you had seen on his face sent a chill down your spine. Your whole body tensed when you saw a sword hovering by your throat, letting out a defeated sigh you loosened your grip on yours and slowly turned.

“You lied to me.”

“You also lied to me,” you tried your best not to snap.

“I didn’t think a maiden of your disposition should be hunting…then again you are full of surprises, Princess Y/N.” Greg moved his sword to your neck and you felt the coolness of the metal spread over your skin.

“A crown does not define what I can and cannot do! I am not only a princess but I am also captain of the Kings guard!” This time you did snap and quickly regretted it when Greg forcefully pressed his sword against your throat. You let out a hoarse groan and nimbly undid your belt that held your weapons and let it fall to the ground. “Do it,” you taunted with gritted teeth “Let your hand be incisive and get it over with!”

Greg raised a brow at the weapons by your feet “Why did you do that?”

You lightly shook your head and let out a dry laugh “I didn’t fight you in battle! What makes you think I’d fight you here?!” Greg knew you had a point, you had the opportunity to kill him yesterday but you didn’t. “I have fought in enough wars,” you quietly spoke and connected your eyes with Greg’s “I am not going to start waging a war with you too…”

Greg repositioned himself slightly and you closed your eyes. “Your death would break your brother,” Greg’s voice trembled “Break him enough to make him give up and practically hand over his kingdom to my king…”

You deeply breathed out of your nose “That is an insightful prophesy,” you whispered and braced yourself for the blade.

A beat passed “It would break me too.”

You opened your eyes when you heard Greg put away his sword “What are you doing?!” He turned his back and began to trudge away from you. You grabbed your belt with your weapons and tied it around your waist as you rushed after him and grabbed his arm when you were close enough, swiftly turning Greg around “Why are you walking away? My life was yours to take!”

“Because I am just as sick and tired as you with all this fighting!” Greg snapped and the stillness around the both of you became disturbed as bits of stagnate snow fell from the trees. “I don’t want to fight you and I don’t want to kill you!” He exasperatingly smiled, slapping his hands against his thighs before beginning to walk away again.

You stormed after him and and forcefully held his wrist. You pulled up your sleeves and showed him your veins “My blood is blue!” You screamed before removing a small dagger and drawing it across the heel pad of your palm, making a small cut. “I bleed blue blood!” You began to steady your breathing and calm down “I am your enemy.”

Greg escaped your grasp and snatched the dagger from you. He glared into your eyes as he performed the same action, red blood spilled from his hand. He grabbed onto your wounded hand and intertwined his fingers with your own, turning the thick, hot liquid between both your palms a purple colour. “We can decide who our enemies are,” your gaze fell to your feet but Greg swiftly placed a finger under your chin, your eyes met with his as your noses gently brushed together “We cannot decide who we love.”

He gently continued to brush his nose against yours “My king and brother would have your head if he knew I was with you…”

Greg smirked “My king and friend would have yours…”

You let out a shudder of a breath and briefly looked away, you hand was still bleeding. You let go of Greg’s hand and crouched down to pick up a handful of snow and place it on your wound. “Give me your hand,” you looked up to Greg who seemed baffled. Your lips twitched in amusement “The snow will melt and clean your, very unnecessary, cut.”

Greg crouched down and held out his hand, you picked up another handful of snow and placed it over the oozing wound. “I was trying to prove a point.”

You raised an eyebrow at him before ripping some material from your underskirt. The faint hissing noise of ripping fabric filled the forest around you. You wrapped Greg’s hand up before trying to tend your own, Greg saw you struggling and gently held your hand. Your eyes connected with his and you silently passed over the material to him. You watched as he, with a gentle touch, covered your cut.

“Thank you…” you whispered. He softly smiled as he held your fingers, gently playing with them with his own.

“Anything for a fair maiden,” he brought the back of your hand to his lips “And princess.”

You let out a sigh and stood up at the same time as him “So this is it? We walk our separate ways and never speak of this again?” Greg shrugged and you took that as your answer. “Very well,” you nodded and swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat “Farewell captain,” you bowed your head and Greg bowed his.

“Farewell fellow captain,” you looked behind your shoulder and sadly smiled before walking on.

You froze hearing Greg running from behind you. He scooped you up in his arms and spun you around before passionately crashing his mouth against yours. You let it a surprised muffled moan before melting into the kiss, your hand gently held onto his freezing cheeks.

“Tomorrow?” He asked before kissing you again.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against his “Yes, tomorrow.”

——————

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[sending-the-message]

Truth or dare, or how I french kissed a corpse by LithiumLidya

This story itself started rather innocently, as a game of truth or dare. For those who aren't familiar (if such people exist), it's a game where you spin a bottle and whoever gets heads can ask a question or give a dare to the person who got tails. There are variations from place to place (such as a limited number of truths or an inversion of the head/tails axis), but in essence, that's it. What's more important, however, it's the people here involved.

I may have to say that no locations will be provided, and all names are fake. You can call me Lidya, for a start.

The school year ended in early July, as usual, and the end of high school meant most of us were going to different colleges, different countries even, and we would probably never see each other ever again. It wasn't a big deal for me, since I wasn't close to many of my classmates. However, one of my closest classmates wasn't okay with that. Magdalene is an emotional person, one to get attached easily, and she wanted us to reunite for one last time during this August, before the start of classes in college in September.

Am I friends with Magdalene? Not exactly. It's a complicated story; before certain events we never talked, exactly. During earlier years of high school, she was bullied pretty badly because one time, she broke her nose and it became crooked a la Owen Wilson. It ended up being so bad that she actually got a nose job later, but even though she forgave them for what they did, I didn't. I was one of the few who stood up for her most of the times, and we were on good terms, but nothing more. Until one day she appeared outside during break, where Eric (my childhood friend/lover/friends with benefits) and I used to go for our deep and pretentious philosophical conversations, and decided we were friends. I think it's more gratitude of her than anything, but whatever. She extended this gratitude towards Eric as well and so this semi friendship came to be.

Our place of reunion was a classmate's, Claire, house. Her parents were traveling, as most people do during summer, and she lived quite far from the downtown area, so the neighbors wouldn't be so close to complain about the noise; besides, she had a pretty big house. Most of our classmates didn't come, though: some were on vacation, some already preparing for university, some had left the city or the country... In the end, only nine of us, including myself, could come; less than half of our class, actually.

I suppose this is an oportune moment to present you to the characters of that night. You already know me: Lidya, your narrator, pleasure to meet you. Then we have Eric and Magdalene, both already mentioned. In sequence, we have Claire, class president, and her boyfriend and source of Magdalene's greatest angst, Adam. We also have Aglaé and Edgar, the twins, Sebastian, Edgar's friend, and Léon, who happened to be Magdalene's crush. In fact, it looks so painfully bland that you could slide us as typical teenagers, your perfect horror movie cast.

Our reunion started with drinking. I don't drink alcohol, so thankfully they had soda in there, but almost everyone drank exclusively alcohol. At some point someone suggested that we should play truth or dare and we all agreed, for whatever reason. The game started innocent enough: who was your crush, have you ever cheated in an exam... Nothing out of ordinary. Then we all became sleepy, and before I could imagine, we all fell asleep.

You can imagine my surprise when I woke up handcuffed to Eric in the basement. But that wasn't even the scariest part: there was a body in the middle of the room.

The body was from one of our classmates, Léon. He had been stabbed in the chest, and blood stained the once pristine grey carpet. Our other classmates were there as well. We were handcuffed in pairs, except, of course, for the body.

We all searched for our phones, but it was pointless, they were nowhere to be seen. However, during our search, we found a recorder in Léon's pocket. Who even has a recorder in 2017? Apparently, the murderer... It was both anticlimactic and terrifying at the same time, in a completely uncanny way, to find such an outdated thing in a dark basement inside a pocket from a dead person's jeans. The whole scene felt so surreal that even remembering it now leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. I really thought it could be a prank, until Adam got over Léon to get the recorder back and just said: "oh my God, it's real! He's dead, it's real blood!".

Evaluating this now, I already knew we were doomed. Deep in my bones, the worst and most intense fear I've ever felt took me over. Léon was dead, and soon enough it wouldn't be the most frightening experience of that unholy night.

But we ended up listening to the recorded tape, for lack of option.

"Hello. I want to play a game. If you don't follow my instructions, all of you will die. Listen and do as instructed. In this room, there's a corpse of one of your classmates. Next to him, is a bottle filled with papers, each should take the paper written with your name, but don't open it yet."

I wasn't feeling this Jigsaw bullshit, but considering how obedient everyone else was, I was left with no choice.

"Now you will play truth or dare. Head asks, tails answers. In your paper, there's a question for truth you should read out loud and answer truthfully. I don't like cheating and I already know all the answers for those questions. In case you would rather have a dare... Each paper also has a dare written for someone else. Whoever has the dare directed at you should read it out loud and well... You should do it.", the stranger said. It was pretty obvious that his voice had been altered, like what they do to witnesses on TV.

"And why should we do this, you sick fuck?", Claire's boyfriend, Adam, said, screaming at the recorder.

Almost if it predicted our question, our answer came. "Why should you do this? Because I am outside this door right now and I'll kill you if you don't."

Chills ran down my spine as we got up to see the door. We screamed for help as if there was no tomorrow: the basement was below ground level and its windows were too tiny for a baby to pass through. The door was locked with heavy chains and padlocks from the basement side, and something heavy was blocking it from even moving from the other side. There was no way out.

"But I shall remember you... Once you use up your truth, there's only dare to pick. Start now."

I opened my paper to read what was written. Let's just say that the question was something I wouldn't ever answer to unless my life was in danger. I was hoping the dares wouldn't be as fucked as this question, but once the bottle started spinning, I doubted my choice was right. The bottle landed on two known figures: Eric as heads, Adam as tails.

"Truth or dare?", Eric asked.

The answer surprised us far more than we expected. Adam was always know for his bravery and cockery, but it seems that his fear got the best of him. "Truth.", Adam said. He took some time before reading the question. "Does your girlfriend knows... About the time you sexually assaulted someone?"

It caused an uprising between us. This is a serious accusation, and well, you might already know that I have a low tolerance for this kind of trash. His answer, though, only made everything worse. "No."

Claire was pissed as fuck, and two others had to hold her down. "When were you planning on telling me you're a fucking rapist, Adam? Holy shit, I can't believe this. Tell me this is a lie, tell me."

"It's not... I-I...", he pleaded, crying. Utter disgust filled me, and now I was the one who wanted to fuck him up. "I-I'm sorry, Magdalene, about that day, I...".

Oh, the plot twist.

Magdalene started crying immediatly, as loudly as a human being could. "WAS IT YOU? OH MY GOD, NO!"

Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold. The punches and slaps she gave him after this revelation was much less than he deserved. Eric tried to calm her down, but frankly, he knew that she had every fucking right to fuck him up and I'd gladly help.

Second round. Aglaé gets heads, Sebastian gets tails. Dare, he says. His dare was to receive a punch from the person of his choice; he chose Aglaé, who took it easy on him. Third round. Edgar gets heads, Claire gets tails. Dare, she says. Her dare was to be tied up from her wrists and ankles for the upcoming round.

Fourth round. Magdalene gets heads, Edgar gets tails. Truth, he says. His question didn't regard a particulary sensitive topic: "how do you feel after flooding the bathrooms to avoid a Math test?". He said he didn't feel particulary happy about it, but didn't regret. Fifth round. Aglaé gets heads, Eric gets tails. Dare, he says.

"I dare you to be stabbed by the person of your choice in this room.", Magdalene read the paper with a trembling voice. There was a knife next to Léon's corpse, stained with blood. His blood.

"Who do you choose?", Adam asked.

"Lidya.", Eric said.

Out of all the choices he could make, he made the smartest, even though not what I hoped for. I have to say that stabbing someone you love is really hard, and the more I thought about it, the more my hands seemed to shake in pure dread. I could kill him. A simple mistake and I could kill him. He prepared himself, holding my tights as firmly as he could.

But, being me, I made the safest choice and stabbed him in the left arm, his non dominant side, and not deeply. He screamed so loudly that I was deafened for a moment. As he later explained, he trusted me to find a loophole in the set dare and save him, and I'd say I'm very honored by his trust, especially because I was nowhere near my right mind to make sensible decisions. Blood squirted over me, and we made a bandage out of his ripped shirt to stop the bleeding.

There was a big silence following this incident. Eric was still shaking, and so were my hands. For someone who never thought I could be able to hurt someone, I proved myself wrong in the most despicable way possible.

But the game must go on. Sixth round. Claire gets heads, I get tails. I chose dare.

My dare was to french kiss the corpse for thirty seconds.

If it isn't luck to get the most fucked up dare of all. Of course I tried to find my way out of doing this, but it was too late. I knocked on the door to speak to the bastard behind it. "Hey, can I change from dare to truth?". No answer. I tried to plead and bargain, and flat out refused, until I saw that the door had a little creak open. I could see chains securing it from the inside, but also a gun pointed directly towards me coming from the outside. Good argument, buddy, sorry to bother you.

The worst part about kissing a corpse is not the smell (considering this was a very fresh body, the only recognizable smell was Léon's minty cologne). Oh no. It's like kissing a bad kisser, who doesn't move their tongue at all... But with blood. So much blood coming through his mouth and flowing through mine that I had to spit it out before I got to the first ten seconds. I vaguely remember hearing screams as I spat out blood, but I assume my brain shut down due to the circunstances or else I would have either thrown up or passed out.

I went through it somehow, until the moment when Léon's corpse started to kiss me back.

[benevolent-incubus]

Bulletproof Desire

The Evil Within One Shot(?) After the tragic events, Sebastian find comfort in the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels. Warnings : OD, Pain, Blood, Bile ect.

Sebastian Castellanos. Male. Age 39. Long ago he cared for his work, being a highly flourishing detective until recent affairs left him spiraling into despair and derailing his path. Feeling powerless and dejected, he took to drinking his sorrows away, returning to work only with a flask in hand.

Each and every night after those unfortunate events, he still felt responsible for the tragedies that befell him, shrugging off any help offered to him by his comrades. He was alone. A solitary and defeated being who gave up and lost hope for all. He had simply seen too much to give a damn. Lost too much to cling to what little he had left.

Long before the Mobius incident, it was Joseph Oda who had reported him to Internal Affairs, giving him a second fighting chance, redeeming himself. But now, all that had gone to waste. Being as prestigious as he had once been put him into a dangerous line of work, driving him into the very path that destroyed him.

Every night was the same. Drowning in a bottle of Jack Daniels over ice until he took to drinking it straight from the bottle. Cursing at the wall and the occasional lecture he gave himself as he looked into the mirror at the sick bastard he had become. His skin crawled at the memories. Bile caught in his throat as his stomach twisted and knotted. Feral thoughts clawing a his mind, convincing him of the piece of shit that he was.

This night had been like the rest except one small difference; no matter the broken mirror and shattered glass that littered his bathroom floor. He had slumped into the bathtub, no water run since he was still clothed; although his mind could not even comprehend that much. His breathing was growing uneven, sweat mixing with the blood that pooled in the palm of his hand, summoning an ungodly stinging from where the glass protruded his wrist.

Maybe...

Maybe he could end it all. Perhaps put an end to his suffering. He was a fuck up, after all. People died because of him. For him. Maybe he owed it to them to die. To join them. No one living gave a shit, did they? Why the fuck would they?

Sebastian found himself heaving up what little he had had for lunch alongside the acid that had been burning within him all day. Good old Jack. Helping him get rid of that unwanted bile and acid. Finding it hard to raise his hand, he groaned and let his head fall to the side, defeated. Too lazy and weak to even off himself. What a good job. Another night to purge his stomach and not the world of himself. Maybe another night. Maybe, tomorrow night. The last thought he could remember before blacking out was the simply conundrum of when the fuck he had pissed himself, thankful he had collapsed in the bathtub and not the floor. Not like he would get out of cleaning it eventually. Unless death met him. Then he was not cleaning shit.

~~

Sebastian sat at his deck in his office, assuming his door had been locked. If he did. Did he? Who fucking knew. He wanted no one to disturb him. The smallest sounds acted like a deep laceration to his brain. His hand had as usual been horrible wrapped with gauze, surprised it had not fallen off on his way to work. Why did he even bother to come in, anyway?

Something had lured him from his home at last one last time. Probably the fact that he heard Joseph was returning to work that day after waking from a long coma after returning from STEM. Perhaps seeing him one last time would put him at ease. At least that would be one less death on his hands. But the blood of Joseph’s torment and pain still lingered. The last time he had seen the male, he could already see the doubt and pain in his gaze. Last he had seen him, he thought he had left him for dead.

On this particular day, he said fuck the flask. A full bottle of Jack’s on his desk with an array of papers sprawled about. Maybe he’s finish them and at least not off himself and give himself a title of being  lazy fuck, too. Or maybe he’d already acquired that one. His eyes still glossed over, he still felt the urge to vomit, but swallowed it down each and every time. He already smelled of despair and grief; did not add to it while he was locked away in his own room. ‘Did I lock it? Fuck. I forget.’

Swaying out of confusion and drowsiness, he questioned if his reasoning for coming in was justified. Did anything warrant his presence if he had plans on going all the way tonight? No, not really. Just a single moment of relief. One person; still alive. Groaning, he took in a deep breath, finding it hard to fill his lungs with that so called precious oxygen as he doubled over his desk in pain. Pain and shame. How much had he drunk last night?

His vision blurred more as he clenched his eyes closed to rid himself of the migraine from seeing any blurred text. Fucking shit... He coughed, leading to a stronger pain in his chest as he felt his arms convulse and his legs were giving out underneath him. He was dizzy as fuck and could no longer raise his head to look around. Not as if there was anything else to look at but unfinished work and failed cases pinned to the cork board.

He tried to inhale to cough again but a stabbing pain in his abdominal region stopped him. Clenching his fists into the documents, he gritted his teeth, feeling the wetness on his face. Sweat? Blood? Tears? Who knew. Maybe a mixture of sorrow and anguish.

He bit his lips, forcing an intake of air, a second, fighting just as hard for it. Why was he fighting? He paused and only felt the pain shred his chest apart. No. Maybe he was not ready. Or maybe he was a coward? Then it passed. All in an instant. He could breathe, each breath was like accepting the very ice from the poles into his lungs. It hurt, still. But it kept him going. Going where?

“I’m sorry...” He murmured in a sound that could not be called English nor any other civilized language. Only a drunken pained slur of distress. A shadow lurking above him, he could sense it. Nothing and everything. He felt the weight of years pushing him down into the splintered wood of his desk. Saliva pooling beneath him. Part of him wanted to cry out to the phantoms of of the past for forgiveness, for help. But whispers of the olden years would do him no good.

Closing his eyes, he felt a sweat embrace him. A thick coating of anguish that chilled him to the bone, lulling him into a comfortable darkness he could call home. Maybe he would never wake. Maybe this was it.

“Sebastian.” A voice with no figure, but a name. He could not see anything past the dancing lights behind his eyelids as he heard a voice attempt to bring him back But it did not reach. He could not return the notion. He was... content. That voice, so soft and often forgiving. That was the last thing he needed; all he wanted in life. And having all he needed, perhaps his final job was done. He was fulfilled.

He felt the rough grip of hands on him, pulling him his slumber? How long had he been out? Hours? Minutes? Perhaps even seconds. He could make out the sounds of feet clattering on the ground around him; always the same tone when they entered his office, lacking carpet and the laminating always slick with dry mud. He could always make it out. Angry voices. Or was there just one doubled over? Just how fucking out of it had he been? His throat convulsed at the same time of his arms as he felt bile building up and something leather in his mouth. He gagged on it as he tried to open his eyes but failed them simply... too heavy.

For once in such a long time... he wanted to continue. A voice ripping him from the shadows and depths of despair. He was in limbo between a hell and another more agonizing hell. He had a second chance, but he had to take a stern grip hold on it. This was not death, this was a worse fate. Sleep. And he wanted to wake.

He took in a pained gasp, hands ripping into the fabric of the being most close to him, nails piercing the fabric with ease. He fought against the leather in his mouth, but he found himself left with absolutely no strength; only now his attention was brought to his own convulsing, the lack of control he had over his body that had betrayed him. No... he had betrayed his own being. Leather and bile was all he could taste over the next five minutes as he felt the hands on him push him into the very floor he hated, a small thought of regret for not cleaning it sooner itching at the back of his mind.

Hot? Cold? He could not tell. His body went through sessions of feeling like it were on fire to the stinging freezing pain h had felt the night before. Nothing was pleasant. He felt like he was dying, and perhaps he was. But he had found a small string in the darkness to tug on and damn did he cling to what little he had. For once in his life, he knew he had no been left with nothing.

He could hear voices, but else had changed. He still could not make out if there was one being beside him or plenty. His eyes glued shut and watching the dancing lights of his eyelids as he fought in and out of consciousness. It was another good five minutes that felt like an eternity and he felt his body settling, finding what little relief he could when his cramped fingers let loose of the fabric they had somehow not failed to release over the given time.

His mouth; dry and cracked as he felt the leather being finally removed, his first instinct to lick his chapped lips. Air. Finally and at last that voice was reaching him, but still not clear. Then he had the most simple of thoughts; he had not locked the door and someone made it inside. Maybe it was a good thing. Depending on whom it was who had him on the floor.

His lungs ached as his body fell limp. Although he seemed he had regained control of his verse system, it left him without any strength to move. Not even enough to open his eyes or left his head. He simply gave into the still apparent pain and laid there, barely conscious.

That was when the worst seem to hit him. He could hear the make of sirens off in the distance; on average he knew they took at minimum seven minutes to get to their department on a good day. Would he make it? Did he want to make it? He had to find the answer soon or else all this suffering would be for nothing. After all, he was just a heap of nothing looking for some cheap excuse to go on; a reason to simply taste that burning Jack Daniels one last time.

[silyabeeodess]

Kuroshitsuji Chapter 127: A Speculation on the Second Killer

For those of you who've been following me for some time, you might remember a post I made a long while back about how cool it would be in the story if Doll were to be brought back as a Bizarre Doll to confront O!Ciel.  At the time, I just thought it would be a neat development due to the emotional confrontation O!Ciel would be faced with by his sins coming back to haunt him. However, lately I'm beginning to see it as an actual possibility with some of the hints we've been given. 

Now, even though I do a ton of analyses on here, I tend to stay away with trying to come up with actual theories just because--at any minute--we can have a monkey wrench thrown into them by the creator of a story that can make anything we've ever thought of null and void.   This is why I'm saying "speculation" instead of "theory": It's not something I'd bet money on.  It's just an educated guess that I very much like.  So for this, I'm going to go part by part on why I think Doll is a plausible suspect for the knife-wielding killer and also include counter-arguments.

Motive/Choice of Victim:

Anyone who has seen or read Book of Circus understands why Doll would want to extract revenge from O!Ciel: He lied to her about his identity and slaughtered the other first tier circus members, her family.  At the end of Book of Circus, Doll attacks O!Ciel, sobbing and screaming that she'll never forgive him.  It can be assumed that, at the end of that scene, Doll was then killed by Sebastian on O!Ciel's orders.   

I'll talk a little bit more about the possibility of her resurrection toward the end, but, for now, let's go over what we know about the Bizarre Dolls.  We know that they retain their memories of their human selves as well as their desires for the future.  In Doll's final moment, her fiercest desire would've been to kill O!Ciel or to make him suffer--and she wouldn't have forgotten that he killed her loved ones.  Based on R!Ciel's reactions in the last few chapters, we may also speculate that the newest form of Bizarre Dolls are able to retain emotions as well, or are at least able to grasp an understanding of what they should feel about certain events based on past knowledge.  Considering this, Doll's hatred likely wouldn't have faded much at all.

So why would Agni be a possible target for Doll?  Because he's close to O!Ciel.  Even on someone else's orders, I don't think Doll would have any qualms against taking the life of someone that O!Ciel cares about--and in a extremely brutal fashion--because that's exactly what he did to her.  An eye for an eye.  Doll may have shown reluctance back when she was alive about taking the life of another person, such as the incident with the police, but that was also when she still maintained a trickle of innocence.  She watched her family kill because "they had no choice" in order to protect the children they believed were still at the workhouse.  She felt they were victims more than criminals and she didn't have a desire to kill before.  Losing Joker and the others is what pushed her to kill without hesitation or mercy.  Humans can often be ruled by hatred, and Bizarre Dolls hardly show an understanding in mortality, so how could a resurrected Doll decide against killing an innocent if her goal is solely revenge against O!Ciel?       

Mental Instability:

Going on the possibility that the knife-wielding killer represents Polaris, their favor of knives and the pattern of using them to rip things apart would make sense. Below are images of Polaris' room from chapter 117 and images of the attack at the townhouse in 127 and 128:

All three images show extreme destruction with the use of knives/daggers.  What this has to do with Doll ties in with what I said in that last part: She would be ruled by hatred and rage, therefore, as a result, she would be destructive.  The events prior to her death would not have kept her in any stable frame of mind: She was involved in kidnapping children, knowing what would happen to them; her brother-figure, Joker, killed a man right in front of her and told her she had to be killer as well; and then she watches Kelvin's manor burn down and gets told that everyone she loves is dead and her new friend was the one that killed them.  She was completely shattered.  As a Bizarre Doll, those feelings would be all that she's left with and she can't recover from them because she's soulless and therefore isn't the same Doll we knew--just a shell.  Since she could only react from her hatred and want for revenge, tearing apart her environment would be her sole outlet until given an actual target.           

The Candy:     

This, I feel, may be the weakest point I'm going to make, but I find it an interesting one.  When chapter 128 came out, a lot of us discussed the possibility of the phrase on the wall, "who stole the candy from my tummy," being carved there by R!Ciel as a symbolic, foreboding message regarding his being stabbed in the chest and O!Ciel having the Phantomhive ring. However, if we were to consider the message a bit more literally, it might have been Doll talking about the candy she had, which was used symbolically in BoC. If we recall, she had three candies: One she gave to Ciel, one she ate on the first night they shared a tent, and one she kept for another day. The first one was thrown in a fire by Sebastian at the end of BoC and the last one fell out of her satchel when she attacked O!Ciel. Not only that, but it's also the very last thing we see from that scene in place of watching Doll die. Those candies represented the beginning and the end of the friendship.

Now, I don't mean to take the whole message literal: Digestion would dictate that the candy she ate was well out of her tummy over the course of the days before she was killed. What was meant by that is probably this part's weakest point. However, it is also something of note that the person who killed Agni and wrote the message--if they are the same--shows signs of mental instability. Therefore, it wouldn't be off for a broken individual to write such a thing based on what the candies are all tied to. She could be talking about the candy she ate and might've been killed in a way that made her think someone ripped it out of her stomach. It might be that and a combination of that candy she lost when it fell out of her bag.  Maybe it's symbolic to the her feelings of betrayal against O!Ciel or maybe there's another explanation.

Weapon/Attack Pattern/ Physical Similarities:

As made clear by the multitude of knives/daggers in Agni's body, the killer favors them. We never saw how adept Doll was with them, however, it was the weapon she used when she tried to kill O!Ciel. Furthermore, the way in which both she and the killer hold the knife is the same overall: Rather than favor any one hand, they usually wield their blades using both hands.  We see Doll wield it once that way and the killer wield it in the same manner in several panels from the assassination.  The knives/daggers that Doll carries compared to the ones stuck in Agni's body and in Polaris' room from the previous images are also of a similar size, showing a favoritism to a specific size of blade. (The knives themselves aren't the same.)

The killer was also acrobatic, as was Doll. Because of this, they easily dodged Agni.   

As for similar physical aspects, of course I can't say much since the killer had themselves cloaked. However, they should have about the right height for Doll since Agni was lowered into a fighting stance when they attacked him. They also seem to have similar body types, nose types, and angles of their jawlines. Evidence that would work against these similarities, however, is that Doll's freckles and part of her scar should've gone below the shading that the killer's face was hidden by beneath their hood.

The biggest issue here would be that the Doll we knew shouldn't have been able to take down Agni.  However, if this new generation of Bizarre Dolls is stronger than the previous ones and have been gifted superhuman abilities, that would chance things.

Resurrection: 

Based on chapter 108, we can guess that Undertaker is involved with what's happened in some way. If he is, it would be possible that Doll's resurrection and appearance here could be explained by Undertaker's appearance at the end of BoC.  He watched Kelvin's manor burn down, and might've collected a few bodies from it. Since Doll was away from the fire at the time of her death, her body should've been in good condition by the time he would've collected it.  As for how it remained in its condition, it's been apparent from the Bizarre Dolls from Weston that Undertaker has mastered preserving them for well over a year without signs of decay or damage besides some scarring around the scalp. 

The issues with this is if the Undertaker is involved to this extent and how Doll would react to R!Ciel.  Many of us can imagine R!Ciel being the killer with the gun.  If this is the cases, it seems more likely that Doll would've attacked the twin--thinking it was O!Ciel--rather than have worked alongside him.  Undertaker, however, does how the ability to control his Bizarre Dolls to the point where he can summon/send them off at will as well as talk through them, as seen at Weston and particularly with Agares. 

In conclusion, I think Doll's Bizarre Doll would be a plausible suspect as well as an interesting thing to bring into the arc, but this speculation isn't without it's holes.      

[superbaektrash]

Another Clace fanfic

Word count: 642

I hope you like this fanfic! It’s my first published short fanfic! Please leave your opinion in the comments (all are welcome). 

Please reblog!

Jace slashed at a shax demon in front of him and it shrunk and disintegrated. With her back to Jace, Clary stabbed a raum demon in the eye. Ichor splashed on her neck and burned her skin, but then the demon shrank and disintegrated.

Jace and Clary turned to each other; sweat running down their faces, blood trickling from various cuts, ripped gear, they threw their arms around each other. They had survived another battle. Together. 

When they stepped away from each other, they examined each other for any bad cuts or bruises like always. Jace ran his hands down Clary’s arms. Nothing bad. He noticed her hand on her stomach. He tensed. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, it’s just a shallow cut,” Clary replied.

He guided her down the alley underneath a street light. “Let me see, Clary.”

She peeled her hand from her stomach.

The tension lifted from his chest. The cut was pretty shallow; an iratze should do it. He pulled out his stele and began drawing healing runes on Clary.

“We really shouldn’t be demon hunting one week before our wedding day,” Clary muttered.       

“What’s the fun in that?” Jace said without taking his focus away from the runes. He finished the last one and looked up at Clary. “Let’s go home.”

She nodded and Jace opened a portal to the Institute.

“What were you two thinking?” Isabelle exclaimed once she saw them. “You’re getting married in a week!”

“Chill out Iz, it was just some stupid raum and shax demons,” Jace said nonchalantly.

Isabelle rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Clary declared.

“I’ll go pick up something at Taki’s,” Jace said.

Towel in her hair, tank top and shorts on, Clary sat on the bed eating fries and looking through her sketchbook while Jace showered. Clary had never ripped out any drawings from her sketchbooks so a lot of her oldest art was still in her sketchbook. There were so many drawings of Jace--and a few of Sebastian. Probably of when she was in the apartment with him and Jace.

She heard the bathroom door open and quickly shut her sketchbook. 

“What’s that?” Jace asked.

She turned to look at him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his hair with another. “Just an old sketchbook,” she said.

“How many drawings of me are in there?” he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Clary rolled her eyes.

Jace walked over to the closet and picked out a pair of pants and an underwear. He tossed his towel on the bed and put the clothes on. Clary tried not to look at him. Even after almost six years together, she still couldn’t believe he was all hers--hers to look at, touch, kiss, and other things. 

“You don’t have to look away, Clary,” he said as if sensing sensing what she was thinking. “I’m all yours--only yours.”

A smile formed at the corner of her mouth. He tossed his other towel aside and sat next to her on the bed. He leaned close to her and planted a kiss on her lips.

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Jace, I have to tell you something.”

“Okay...” he said.

“I’m... I’m...” she took another deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

A smile spread across Jace’s face. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

He threw his arms around her in a tight hug. “I’m going to be a father,” he whispered. He froze and moved back from her. “You’re keeping it right? You don’t have to, maybe you think we’re moving too fast. Or maybe you just--”

“I’m keeping it, Jace. You are going to be a father.”

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. “I love you,” he muttered against her lips.

“I love you too,” she said.

[jawsandbones]

Recommended Listening: Maria the Poet (1913) - Max Richter

@anonymous: "Fen/f!hawke 6&8 pls make it hurt" I have loved since you.  But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath. (My heart is layers of scar.) & Ah, unrequited love.  When your best isn’t enough. (Participation medals of the heart.))

Long have his walls stood strong. Built when they were needed most, shielding him from rough hands, rougher orders. Reinforced time and time again, fixing the cracks that threatened to appear. Now, so far gone from that time, he’s let them fall into disrepair. Moss has appeared. Flowers grow in the cracks. There are hands, different than his, kinder than he could have imagined, taking down the wall stone by stone. She pulls at each one with ease, hands them down to him. She speaks words he cannot hear, doesn’t understand. She smiles and the stone he is holding crumbles into dust, ash falling through his fingers.  

A hand upon his shoulder, traveling the width of his back, ending on the other as Hawke sits herself down next to him. Elbows on the table, leaning forward as she looks at him, fingers over the rim of her mug. She breathes the lightest chuckle, shares the brightest smile. Fenris looks down at the hands folded in his lap, the red around his wrist. He keeps his gaze away from her, and the tips of his ears burn with red. Only when she begins to speak to Aveline does he dare look up again. She speaks with her hands as much as her mouth, her whole body reflecting every word she says.

Her cheeks glow with the tint of alcohol, and she’s throwing back her head and laughing. Slender fingers tuck strands of raven hair behind her ears. When she smiles, her eyes smile too, blue brilliant and bright. He memorizes the way hair drifts against her forehead, the curve of her nose, the red of her lips. He steals what glances he can without her noticing. He thinks she does anyway. She turns to face him, chin resting against knuckles, wraps the other arm over his shoulders and pulls him close. “Fenris agrees with me, don’t you?” She says, her head knocking against his.

He’s not quite sure what he’s agreeing to but he nods anyway. He misses the warmth of her when she pulls away, half standing and leaning over the table, stealing three gold pieces from Isabela’s grasp. Laughing as she falls back into her seat, hands in fists against her chest, protecting her bounty. Isabela slaps hands against the table as she pushes herself up, runs around the table. Arms that wrap around Hawke, hands at wrists, pulling them lose.

Merrill is giggling in her chair, cheeks pink as she watches them. Sebastian smiles something at Varric even as he shakes his head, both of them keeping an eye on Hawke. Anders has his arms crossed on the table, looking at Hawke with something like wonder. Hawke gives them everything and yet gives them nothing. Isabela returns to her seat, the others fold into conversations amongst themselves. Hawke is putting the gold in her pockets, stretching like a cat. He agrees to walk her home.

They walk amongst the quiet, the background noise of the city. Stars burn overhead, and the moon lights the streets. She has her hands clasped behind her back, the remnants of a smile still lingering around her lips. Her hands unwind, unbind, bounce against her as they reach the door of her estate. He barely feels himself moving, reaching, and taking her hand in his. She cocks her head, confusion knitting her brows as she looks at him.

The words are half-formed, clumsy, but needing to be said. “Hawke, I have been thinking and I – I am willing to try again, if you are,” he tells her. Regret that he is attempting to erase, a feeling unearthed and not felt in so long. He might have loved before he was Fenris. If he did, he does not recognize it. It’s raw in his chest and in his throat, swallowing fire and desperately needing more. A taste given that one night, unleashed every night since.

Hawke tugs her hand back from his grasp. She holds it although he has burned her, stabbed her, eyes wide with something like fear. The line of her mouth is thin and she is backing away from him. “I can’t.” The words rip from her. “You left and I –” her jaw clenches, she presses hands against her eyes. “I can’t do that again.”

“Hawke, I –” Love you, need you, want you. After all, I am yours. He is stepping forward, a hand outstretched towards her but she is shaking her head.

“No,” she bites out the word, hands falling to her side. “Whatever you think it is you feel for me, bury it.” She turns, disappears into the darkness of her estate.

Long have his walls stood strong. Crumbling now, falling into ruin, disappearing into an ocean he’s created. There’s dust on his hands, ash at his feet. The flowers have begun to wilt. He begins to rebuild, stone by stone.

[paintedface]

We never go out of Style

Summary: You thought he wasn’t like the others. Apparently, he is.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x (female)Reader

Word Count: 4,077 words

Warning: Angst (First attempt at writing actual angst and I’m terrible at it), fluff, minimal language, Break Up

You stare in shock at the image in the magazine, printed large and bold, taunting you. You feel a sharp stab to your heart, like someone has literally tore it out of your physical body and trampled on it viciously. You can’t believe he did this to you, he just…he just betrayed you. You could’ve sworn he wasn’t like the others, but it seems that you were wrong. He’s just another celebrity swapping love interests whenever he liked. You can’t help but let tears form in the corner of your eyes, slowly dripping down onto the paper. You trusted him so much, trusted him to not shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You hear the front door click open and you look up, hands clutching the magazine so tightly it should’ve ripped. Through your tear-blurred vision, you can see Sebastian walk into the room, mouth in a sunlight-filled grin. He acts like he didn’t just cheat on you a few nights prior. He acts like he has no weight on his shoulders at all, eyes filled with what seemed like pure love. Now, you know better though than to judge his real emotions through his appearance.

“Hey babe, how was your…” His cheerful voice trails off as he takes in your heartbroken state. You open your mouth, but no words come out but a loud, wrecked, sob. You can’t do anything but to just stare at him, tears leaking onto your cheeks. Because how could he do this to you?

His eyes drift down to the magazine you’re holding, and they widen, hands flying up to cup his mouth. His previously happy face is now panicked, mixed with absolute horror.

“Y/N…Y/N I swear…” He manages to get out nervously, fingers now gripping his face tightly, tense and shocked.

“I swear it’s…it’s not what it looks like…” He stutters, one arm reaching out towards you shakily.

You jerk back, flinching from every one of his movements, taking a step backwards.

“What’s it supposed to look like, then?” You rasp out, the magazine trembling in your grip.

Sebastian moves forward, his eyes now glassy as well, biting his lip so hard that it’s going to leave an indent. Not that you care.

“I…hear me out Y/N, please! It…I was being…friendly!” He stumbles on his words, his poor attempt at lying heard loud and clear.

“Friendly? FRIENDLY?!” Your voice raises, despite it feeling like it could break any moment. “Since when does being friendly involve kissing the heck out of them while grabbing their ass?!” Your tone is shrill but you’re so furious and disappointed in him that you don’t give a second thought about how you sound like.

You can hardly bear to look at that god forsaken image, your gut churning if you so much as think about it. Before Sebastian can respond, you throw down the magazine onto the ground roughly, landing at the feet of who you thought was your boyfriend.

“We’re done, Sebastian! I trusted you!” You can’t help but shout, before running out of the room. You try to contain your tears as you rush up to your room, hearing Sebastian call your name in dismay. Once you slam the door, you collapse on your bed, crying into your pillow. You know Sebastian can hear your heart wrenching sobs, but he’s the one who did this to you.

How could he? You thought that he was different to those other celebrities, but he obviously isn’t. You thought that he loved you. It took a lot of effort to be a girlfriend to a celebrity, what with a lot of hate and hectic schedules. You had given up your life for him, only for him to throw it all away.

Shaking your head, you manage to control the rest of your sobs, before sitting on the edge of your bed, breathing heavily. Your lungs feel like they need more breath in them, exhausted from the onslaught of tears. Licking your chapped lips, you shakily stand up, looking around at the room. It’s a lot of things to pack up, but you’re sure that you have the motivation. And you do, throwing all your belongings into a giant suitcase in record time, stopping several times to remind yourself that you have to do this, it’s not wrong to leave when he betrayed you. After you’ve zipped up the luggage, you heave a large sigh, tears springing to your eyes again. This is happening. You’re actually leaving.

You open the door quietly, rolling the luggage onto the smooth, wooden floors. You wince at the sound it makes, knowing that Sebastian would be able to hear. You use your limited strength to lift it up as you walk down the stairs, almost falling from the heavy weight of your belongings. You have to go through to the living room to make your exit, and you’re dreading it. You don’t want to see Sebastian again.

As soon as you step through the living room threshold, your heart leaps. Sebastian is sitting on the couch, head in his hands and chest rising and falling rapidly. You’ve never seen him as distressed as this. He looks up, and you resist running over to give him a hug. You can’t do that anymore. His eyes are just as red as yours, tears staining his cheeks. He catches sight of the luggage and actually whimpers. He rises, looking like every movement could cause him to give out.

“I’m leaving.” You tell him, despite him already knowing. His eyes turn much more pleading, lip trembling and hands fidgeting.

“Don’t go Y/N…I…I can explain…” He chokes through his tears. Your thoughts harden, thinking that he deserves to cry. Harsh of you, you know, but he’s the one who hurt you.

“I can’t do this Sebastian. Not after…” You mutter, taking a few more steps towards the front door, away from your former lover.

You can see Sebastian’s eyes become glassy, but you try not to take any notice as you finally get to the door.

“Please, Y/N, I love you…” He stammers, watching you enclose your fingers around the door handle. Something snaps inside of you, burning in your heart with a mix of rage and betrayal. How dare he say that? You turn back to him, slowly pushing down on the handle.

“If you loved me…you would’ve never left me.” You tell him, your voice tinged with tears and fury. Not waiting for Sebastian’s response, you pull open the door, the cool breeze hitting you instantly.

This is it.

You take one last glance at Sebastian, the face you once thought would love you forever. Then you step over the threshold, closing the door behind you, tears leaving your eyes without permission. You quickly run a hand along your eyes before heading down to your car. With effort, you shove your luggage into the boot before entering the comfort of your car. You half expect Sebastian to come out of the house, but he never does. He really doesn’t care about you. Sighing, you turn the key into the ignition and drive to the first place you think of.

Ashleigh opens the door as soon as you ring the doorbell, a wide, welcoming grin on her face. It dies as soon as she sees that you are, one: looking like you just woke up and heard your pet died, and two: you’re holding a suitcase. She pulls you into an enormous hug as you break down, crying into her shoulder as she rubs soothing circles over your back.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” She tells you gently, pulling you into her house as you nod, sniffling.

He messed up real bad. He can’t believe that he let the alcohol take over, he knew better than to get drunk. He made you cry, he hurt you so badly. He can’t forgive himself for that. And now that you’re gone, there’s an empty hole in his heart where you used to be. It’s been a week now, and it hurts so much. He knows that it’s all his fault that you’re gone, but he wants you back. He can’t live without you, he can’t move on. He only has himself to blame, yet he can’t help but hope that one day, he’ll be able to fix it. It’s seemed like it’s been ages since he last had physical contact with you, ages since he last hugged you. Ages since he last kissed you and ages since he last spooned you. Just ages apart from you. He’s tried texting you, calling you, looking for any sign that you’re okay and if you want to talk. But the first thing you had done when you had gotten to Ashleigh’s house was to block his number. He has no way of knowing where you are, for all he knows, you could be hiding out near starbucks. He’s beginning to get worried sick, hoping desperately that you’re at least alive. He knows that you won’t answer his calls, so he calls your friends instead, in an attempt to find out whether they know where you are or not.

Sniffing, Sebastian dials Cameron’s number, holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hello? Cameron?” He asks quietly into the speaker.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Cameron replies, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Do you know where…where Y/N is?” Sebastian’s voice is shaking.

“No, I don’t…what happened? Are you alright?” Cameron says, now concerned.

“Did you…did you have a fight?” The words break through the silence, Sebastian wincing.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it.” Sebastian mumbles.

“Are you sure? I could try contact her.” As much as Sebastian wants that, he knows that you may move away further from him.

“No I can’t…I can’t do that…”

A small pause occurs, but Sebastian doesn’t want to be rude and cut off the conversation.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine, it’ll work out, yeah?” Cameron says finally.

God, I hope so, Sebastian thinks internally.

“Th…Thanks anyway Cameron.” Sebastian says, before hanging up and slumping back onto the couch cushions. He’s never felt so stressed in his life, what with Cameron being one of your best friends and not knowing where you are.

He contacted all your other friends, his distress growing with every call he makes, as none of them know where you are. He’s on the verge of breaking down, his eyes leaky faucets and body shivering. He just wants you back.

You’re biting into a piece of pancake when Ashleigh’s phone rings. You look up, still feeling like shit, as she answers it.

“Ashleigh here.”

Her eyes are wide as she turns to look at you. Covering the speaker, she mouths, “It’s Sebastian.”

You instantly begin panicking, whispering, “He can’t know I’m here!” You have begun missing him, but you still can’t forgive him yet. You’re still absolutely furious at him, as well as being heartbroken. You’ve spent the last week eating baked treats that Ashleigh has no end of, crying on the guest bed or couch and binge watching Netflix in your pyjamas. Basically moping. Ashleigh always gives you hugs, but they aren’t the same as Sebastian’s.

“Sorry Seb, I haven’t heard from her.” Ashleigh’s voice snaps you out of your daze, as she lies to Sebastian through the phone.

“Okay, bye.” Ashleigh turns off her phone and puts it on the counter.

“He sounded really tired.” She tells you, sitting on the barstool. “And really distraught.” She adds, resting her elbows on the marble tabletop.

“Really?” You say, making your tone sound flat and uninterested but really, you’re intrigued.

“Mm hm. It also sounded like he was about to cry.” She says, pushing her hair behind her shoulders.

“Nothing compared to me.” You mutter, facing her.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I think that you should talk to him soon.” Ashleigh advises, giving you an encouraging smile.

“But…”

“Yeah, I know that he should be the one to explain things to you but you still love him, don’t you?” You curse Ashleigh inwardly for perceiving your thoughts exactly.

“I…I do, but I thought…I thought he would always be faithful…” You sigh, lip trembling.

“I admit, I didn’t think Sebastian would be that kind of guy. Maybe he has a reason for his actions? Hear him out.” She considers, holding your hand tightly.

“I’ll see. Maybe.” You tell her, feeling a tiny bit more lighter than you were before. You desperately hope that he did have a reason for his actions, that maybe he didn’t do it on purpose. You’re still wounded from his traitorous actions though. You’re not ready.

You’re lounging on Ashleigh’s couch, fiddling with your phone, reading random buzzfeed articles. It’s been two weeks since you left Sebastian’s house, and sometimes, it’s hard not to drive back there. You don’t remember the last time you’ve left Ashleigh’s, and you don’t remember the last time you changed out of your pyjamas. It’s night, so you honestly don’t care. You’re basically the stereotypical depiction of an ex, without the large amount of mascara and lipstick stained all over your face. Ashleigh’s basically working around you, and you’re grateful that she understands your heartbreak, leaving you be.

The doorbell rings loudly in the quiet of the house and you immediately look towards the entrance. You still, realising who may be on the other side. Ashleigh heads towards the door, shooting you a reassuring glance. You shift uncomfortably, keeping your eyes down as she opens the door.

You freeze as you hear a familiar male voice, dropping the phone into your lap. Yes, you expected it, but you haven’t heard that voice in a while. Ashleigh murmurs in a low voice, and the other voice talks honestly, cracks and hesitations in between words. They go back and forth, until finally, it goes quiet. You slowly pick up your phone again, hearing footsteps approach. Suddenly, you feel someone’s gaze on you, the hairs on your neck standing up a little. You turn a little to face whoever just entered the room, and a tingle runs through your body.

Sebastian’s standing in the threshold of the living room, looking the most terrible you’ve ever seen him, that it almost makes your heart break. His hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in days, ruffled and messed up, falling into his eyes. He’s pale, looking ghostly and ill, his normally warm glow gone, replaced by a cold and frightened shudder. His eyes are bloodshot, red-rimmed and swollen. His stormy, blue grey eyes, aren’t bright with life anymore. There are deep shadows underneath his eyes, bags heavily pronounced. His lips are chapped, dry, and he looks much worse than you. You begin to feel heavily guilty, knowing that you’re actually less affected.

In his hand, he’s holding a small bouquet, with red and white roses in them. They look delicate, fragile, not an overly large gesture. His gaze lands on your phone, which leaves you momentarily confused. Then you realise why. Your lock screen is still a picture of you and him when you went to Paris. You love that photo, and you wanted to keep it as your lock screen. Now, you realise just how much it means to Sebastian. How much it means to you. Your eyes flick back up to meet his, heart jumping at the mere sight of him. He’s biting his lip, and you see the tiniest bit of blood seeping out of the skin, signs of the lack of care he’s been giving himself. You remain like that for a while, eyes speaking louder than any words could. You can sense apologies, regret and worry just from his look. Unable to handle the eye contact the two of you are maintaining, silly, you know, you stand up, turn, and head towards your room. You know it must’ve seemed abrupt and rude, but you need to give yourself a breather before you speak to him, preparing yourself for either the break up or get back together speech.

You sit down on your bed, rather, Ashleigh’s bed, and lie back. You suck in deep lungfuls of the cool air, closing your eyes as you reflect. You hope you can work this out with Sebastian, though you know better than to forgive him without a second thought.

As you expected, you hear a timid knock on the door, quiet and barely there.

“Can…Can I come in?” You’re surprised at the actual tone of his voice once he’s talking to you-it’s weak, hoarse and he sounds…he sounds like a kicked puppy. You sigh, not being able to help feeling like your heart is melting for him.

“Yeah.” You reply softly, and the door opens hesitantly. Sebastian steps in, placing the bouquet of flowers on the dresser gently.

“M…May I?” He asks, gesturing slightly to the bed. You nod, shifting over a little. He sits down nervously, you noticing that he’s actually trembling all over. You fight the urge to reach out and hold his hands, but once again, you can’t.

“Y/N…” Just hearing him say your name makes a glow blossom in your centre.

“I…I’m so sorry…I know sorry won’t matter, because…because I hurt you so much…and I can never forgive myself for that…ever…” He trails off, not daring to look you in the eye, too nervous.

You remain silent, looking at his ducked head, still admiring him despite the situation.

“I…I don’t deserve to be forgiven, I don’t…I don’t deserve you at all…I…I knew better than to get drunk…”

You stiffen a little, upon hearing the reason why he kissed the other girl. For all you know, he could simply be lying. However, he sounds completely earnest as he continues.

“I should never have let myself near the alcohol…I let it take over…I know that’s no excuse, but…I wanted to let you know that…that I never wanted to do it…I never should’ve gone to that bar, I never should’ve talked to her…I knew she was bad news but I still did it and hate myself for it and I…I should’ve known better and…and I faced the consequences…which was hurting you…I broke your trust, I made…I made you think that I was like the other celebrities and…and maybe I was but I swear I…I didn’t mean to…”

You hold back a sob, tears blurring your vision at how damn sorry he sounds. Tears roll down your cheeks at how bad he feels for hurting you, at how guilty he is. You open your mouth to say something, but he speaks first.

“I…I can’t lose you, Y/N…You’re…you were…you were the best thing in my life, and you still are…if you’ll have me…it took you leaving for me to realise just how much…just how much you mean to me...it was the worst time of my life…and I…I never want to experience it again…”

He looks up into your eyes, water dripping from his eyes as well, probably more so than yours. You wince at how terrible he looks, at the state he’s in, but you feel so relieved that he’s…he’s here. He’s beautiful, and you probably won’t ever think otherwise.

“If…” Your voice comes out weak, and you clear your throat. “If I…If I come back then…will you cheat on me again?”

He shakes his head frantically, resting a quivering hand on your knee.

“God, never…never again…I swear I’ll never hurt you again…I’ll spend my whole life proving to you that…that you’re the only one…the only one that I’ll ever love…” He whispers, moving a bit closer.

“Promise?” You murmur back, your heart already giving in.

“I promise…” He says, his hand moving around to press on the small of your back. His touch sends sparks through your veins, making you relax into his touch.

You really believe him. And you know you’re ready to love him again.

Unable to hold back, you lean forward. Your lips connect with his and they move gently against yours, pressing into the kiss. His other hand moves up to rest on the nape of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles near your hairline. Smoothly, you shift to sit on his lap, legs dangling off his sturdy thighs and you wrap both arms around his waist tightly. You frown inwardly at how you can feel his ribcage more prominently through his skin then before-he obviously hasn’t been doing so well. You coped by eating a lot, he hardly ate at all. You’re not afraid of embracing him close though, as you break apart from the kiss. He rests your foreheads together, a tiny smile playing at the edge of his lips. He reaches up to wipe away the remainder of the tears, and you let out a small laugh. He casts his eyes down, fingers pressing against your skin a little more.

“It’s…” He gives a sound, mixed between a sob and a laugh. You tighten your grip on him reassuringly. “It’s been so…so long since…since I’ve hugged you…” You can see the glisten in his eyes again and you run a hand through his brown locks, avoiding the many knots. Kissing him again, you say, “As long as this never happens again, then you’ll never…you’ll never have to go so long without my hugs.”

“Much as I love your hugs, I’d rather not be without you yourself…” He replies quietly, as he kisses a feather-light trail up your neck.

“That…that can be arranged.” You murmur, shying away and giggling as Sebastian pokes you lightly in the ribs.

You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, just revelling in the presence of your lover for a few moments. He presses small kisses to your scalp from time to time, reminding you both that you’re together.

“Do you want to…do you want to pack?” Sebastian asks hesitantly.

You nod, reluctantly standing from his lap. Slower than last time, now you’re not in such a rush, you put away your things that you had set out in the room, back into the luggage. Sebastian helps, and from time to time, presses a kiss to the back of your neck. You refuse to change out of your pyjamas, reminding him that it’s night, and you just want to get back and sleep. He smiles warmly, eyes now glowing. You take up the beautiful bouquet, and rest it on the top of your suitcase delicately, making sure it doesn’t get crushed. 

“Did you know that…” Sebastian says softly. You look at him. 

“The reason why I picked white roses as well as the red ones is because…white roses mean…they mean new beginnings.”

After you’ve packed, you open the door, and see Ashleigh fiddling nervously with a pen as she sits on the barstool. She turns her head when she realises you’re there.

“All good?” She mouths, and you nod. She grins, and does a small dance in her seat. You roll your eyes in spite of yourself, and take Sebastian’s hand. He squeezes your fingers affectionately.

“Thank you.” You mouth back to Ashleigh and her grin turns soft. Her expression tells you, “No worries.” You thank God silently for good friends.

As you pass her, you give her a swift hug, and she pats your back, before pulling back.

“So happy for you.” She whispers in your ear.

“Thanks Ashleigh. You’ve been good to me.” You whisper back, before raising your hand in farewell.

“Ready to go?” Sebastian asks, and in response, you tug on his hand as you step towards the door.

“I’m ready.”

Once you enter the house, you instantly smile. Finally, you’re home. It feels like nothing has changed, though a lot has. At least your house makes you feel more comfortable, makes you feel like you belong again.

After forcing Sebastian to eat some takeaway (because he’s obviously underfed) and forcing him to take a shower, you go the bedroom. You being lazy, you don’t unpack, procrastinating until tomorrow. He smiles at you as he leads you to bed, getting underneath the covers. You have a lot to sort out, but that can wait. Right now, sleep and cuddling is a priority.

“I love you…” He whispers drowsily, draping his arm over your waist and pulling you close.

“Love you too…” You murmur back, kissing him and relaxing in his hold.

The only sound in the room is your breathing, and that’s enough. As long as you’re both breathing and you’re both together, you’ll be fine.

[fandomlife-giver]

His Maid, Overtime: 2

Summary: I’m really tired right now, just finished writing, and wanted to post this. I don’t have enough energy to write a proper summary, so here it goes...there’s violence,  little comedy, and just the right amount of Sebastian.

Parings: Sebastian x Demon!reader

@wintersdoll​

Warnings: Violence, smut

Word Count: 4536

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The servants had confusion and fear on their faces.

There was a light blush on Mey-Rin's cheeks as she twiddled her thumbs. "Um...should we do something?"

Finny's eyes were wide. "I don't know. Maybe we should stay put?"

Bard scratched the back of his neck with furrowed brows. "So...we're just gonna pretend like we weren't just locked in the broom closet?"

Ciel growled in irritation as he banged on the closet door. "Open this door right now! Do you hear me?!"

As he panted from exhausted, Tanaka laughed in the background.

"Do forgive me, young master. It's for your own safety."

Ciel scoffed from the voice that came from the other side. "Damn you. I can see your smirk from in here! Open this door, that's an or—!"

"Ciel."

He froze once he heard your voice.

"Please, I assure you I wouldn't allow this if I knew it wasn't crucial to your safety."

"Y/N...you agreed to locking us in here?"

"Well...actually, it was my idea to begin with. Please, stay here until either me or Sebastian comes. Ciel. Trust me."

He clenched his teeth, and after a few moments of silence, he sighed and fell back against the door. "Fine."

"Thank you. I'll have to ask you all to keep quiet. Don't worry, this won't take long."

"Y/N."

"Yes? What is it?"

"Come back. That's an order."

There was a few moments of silence. "Yes, my lord."

You stared down and stepped away from the door.

"Y/N."

You glanced at Sebastian, who had a knowing look in his eyes. "Are you prepared for the consequences of this? Lucifer is not a being to be trifled with. He won't be pleased of you killing two of his servants."

His eyes widened when you started laughing. You looked up at him with amused eyes and a smile.

"Oh, it'll definitely be worth the torture. I cannot wait to get my hands on her. Her screams will be music to my ears." You bit your lip as a smile formed. "Everything she did to me...the way she grinned at the sounds of my pain...I want to know what made her so happy."

"You want to torture her?"

You stared at him as you removed the gloves from your hands. Once you removed it from your left hand, you grasped onto the red ring upon the pointer finger. Your smile slightly wavered as you slid it off your finger and held it up. His eyes moved to your hand when you covered your left eye, and showed the contract mark no longer lighting up.

You slipped the ring into your glove and placed the gloves in your pocket, before looking up at him. "No."

You walked closer to him to where your breasts were up against his chest and you stared up in his eyes and grinned.

"I want to break her."

. . .

Azah groaned as she picked her nails with her sharp blade. "I'm bored."

Silence.

She rolled her eyes and looked over at Luesir. "Hello!"

He sighed as he turned his gaze away from the manor to her. "What?"

"I said I'm bored! These humans are sooo boring." She twirled her staff and it converted back into a small stick that she tucked in her pocket, then jumped across to rest her chin on his shoulder. "Hey, Loser. Entertain me."

He only flicked her in the forehead, which made her trip and fall to the ground.

"Hey! I oughta rip out your throat!"

He ignored her and crossed his arms as he focused back on the manor.

"Loser! I'm talking to you!"

"The more you scream, the more I'm going to ignore you. You might wanna shut up, you may just give us away."

"Screw you!"

He perked up when he saw movement by a window. A grin spread when he saw it was you entering your room.

You shut the door behind you and once you caught him staring, you smirked and began to unbutton your shirt.

His eyes widened when you dropped your shirt on the bed and unzipped your skirt, which then fell to the ground. His nails dug into the bark of the tree as he saw the half naked you walk into the bathroom. He slightly growled in frustration when you disappeared from his view.

"Hey! Pervert!"

He looked down when she tapped her nails against the tree and watched with a smirk. "The house is quiet. And I have an idea."

. . .

Luesir had an excited smile on his face as he walked down the hall. He was more than joyed to see you, while Azah wanted to take care of the brat herself.

He hadn't even realized he was humming the song, but he was. That's how happy he was.

He stopped when he heard someone gasp. As he spun around, he didn't sense anything, and continued walking, passing by the broom closet and scraping his nails against it as he did.

He slowed his steps once he reached your room. He cracked his knuckle and slowly entered. The first thing he noticed was your clothes laid out on the bed, then the sound of water splashing inside the bathroom.

He licked his lips just by the thought of seeing you in such a vulnerable state. And he was more than ready to take in the sight of all of you. Without waiting another second, he kicked the door open. The room was pitch black, and lit up by several candles.

He smirked. "My, did you do all this for me?" He turned when the door shut and there was sounds of splashing, along with humming.

"Oh, my dear. You don't know how long I have waited for this, Felis." He inhaled and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked closer to the tub and the splashing sounds.

"I don't know about that."

His eyes widened when another candle ignited and Sebastian's face came into view. Sebastian smirked. "I've had to wait quite a while as well."

He looked at the tub to find it empty with no sign of you anywhere. He looked back at Sebastian with a frown. "Where is she?"

"You shouldn't worry about Y/N. I think you should worry about you."

"Don't call her that!"

Sebastian rose an eyebrow at his outburst. "By her name? Well, what do you know her by?"

"Her name is not Y/N. Her name is Felis."

"And why is that? Because it's Latin for cat? You probably don't even know what her true name is, considering you know her by a slave name."

Luesir gave a humorless laugh. "You're him, aren't you? You're that butler she works with."

Sebastian smiled. "No. You see I am simply one hell of a butler."

. . .

The door to Ciel's study creaked open as the sound of light footsteps traveled inside.

Azah looked around in distaste. "After all this time, they could at least get some new wallpaper. What a bore."

A chuckle erupted in the room as the door slammed shut.

Azah whipped around to the door and squinted her eyes.

"Yes, that's what I keep telling my master, but he prefers every detail to be exact as before."

She smiled. "Felis! You gave me a surprise, I thought it was that little brat for a second."

She walked to you with open arms, but only received a punch to the face, which sent her flying across the room to face plant into the floor.

She spit out some blood and smiled as she sat up. "You know, I liked you better when you kept your mouth shut and sat obediently beside your king with your chains and iron collar to keep you in your place."

"And I like you better when you stop talking and are elsewhere. Funny how that works." You said this as you removed your coat and folded it on Ciel's desk.

"Come on, Felis. We don't have to do this. Just come back with us, and we'll be sisters again."

You scoffed. "We were never sisters, Azah. And you threatened my master. That is unforgivable."

She came up behind you and grabbed your ponytail, then proceeded to smash your head multiple times against the desk. She stopped once you weren't moving.

"Your master? You're delirious, Felis. Your master is already dead."

Your nails scratched against the desk and you threw your head back, which slammed into her nose and made her fly back.

"Say what you will. But my master is very much alive, and I live only for him."

She sneered and ran towards you at a fast speed, but you jumped, back flipped, landed behind her and kicked her square in the back of the head.

She landed flat on the floor with your foot still buried in her hair. You unbuttoned the waist coat around your chest and placed it beside her, then let your hair down and stared down at her as her face was to the wall.

"Let's have a little chat."

. . .

Ciel huffed as he placed down a king, which he paired with his other two and turned them over.

Bard scratched his chin as he looked at his cards. "Uh...Finny, what ya got?"

Finny looked around nervously. "Well, none." He sighed as he held up his last card that didn't match with any of his cards.

Mey-Rin giggled. "Oh my, looks like Finny's the old maid!"

"Wha-"

*crash*

They all stood up after something slammed against the door.

"Oh! I wonder what that was-" Ciel covered Finny's mouth.

"You think you deserve a mate as perfect as that? Ha! You ain't even worthy of my time, crow."

Another slam was heard, but louder as the walls shook. "As if your time is something worth having. Not only do you trespass here, but you harass a servant of this household and believe she would want a thing as low on the food chain as you?"

"Ho ho ho"

Ciel's eye widened. "It's Sebastian."

. . .

A scream filled the room when you stabbed the letter opener from Ciel's desk into her back.

"Tell me Azah...what is your real purpose here?"

She hissed and looked back at you with slitted eyes. "What do you mean, Felisss?"

You glanced at her when her tongue whipped out on the 'S' and it resembled one of a Cobra.

"Oh my, it looks like your serpent side is coming out. Isn't that forbidden in the mortal world?"

Her jaw widened twice the size it normally should and sharp fangs retracted out.

"Hmm, you still haven't answered my question. Come now Azah, why would you drag Luesir all the way here and stay as long as you have, even be bold enough to enter this household and threaten the meal of another demon?"

You walked over and pressed your palm against the end of the opener, which made her hiss through clenched teeth. "Only a fool would do something like that." You tapped the end twice. "Unless..." You shoved it deeper into her back, making her groan.

You pulled the blade out of her and leaned down to her face. "You have other intentions here.

She raised her chin up and flashed you her fangs. "You can't hide from him forever, Felisss."

Your lips twitched into a frown. "Wrong answer." You slammed the blade back into her back, making her screech.

. . .

Sebastian wiped the blood off his face with the exposed skin of his wrist. "If it's not too much to ask, I prefer not to ruin my clothes. It's a hassle enough trying to keep the manor clean."

A grunt came from the hole in the wall as a large tail sweeped under Sebastian's feet, which momentarily threw him against the wall.

Sebastian stood up as Luesir walked in with his red armored tail and it's stinger swinging behind him. "I'll ask you again, crow."

His stinger swung and stabbed Sebastian in the shoulder. "Where is my Felis? Tell me now and I won't harm that small brat you call a master."

He chuckled and smirked. "Your Felis? I think you mean my Y/N." He grasped the stinger and twisted it, making Luesir screech.

Luesir growled and kicked him through the wall, making Sebastian slide on the floor and lay upright on the wall. His fingers curled as blood poured from his shoulder, making him frown.

"Sebastian!!"

He froze when Ciel ran out of the closet and locked the servants in, but when he turned and saw Luesir, his face fell.

Sebastian quickly stood, but Luesir already noticed him and wrapped his tail around Ciel's waist. "You must be crow's master and the reason Felis is still here."

Ciel struggled to get out of his grasp. "Release me now!"

"Shut it, human." He looked at Sebastian. "You will tell me where she is or I will devour your master."

Both Sebastian's and Ciel's eyes widened.

Ciel desperately looked at him. "Sebastian, keep your mouth Shut! Don't tell him anything!"

"Tick- tock, crow. Where is she?"

"Shut up! You won't go near her-"

"You expected her in her room, yes?"

They both looked at Sebastian as he walked forward. "And where is it your partner expected my master to be?"

Luesir smirked. "His study, of course." He dropped Ciel to the floor. "Good choice."

As he walked away, Sebastian watched, even when Ciel slapped him.

"You are an idiot!"

. . .

You glanced up when the door opened and a tail swung in, which knocked you to the ground. You flipped yourself on your feet, but once you did, his stinger ran through your stomach.

Your eyes widened as you fell to the floor.

Azah's head shot up and she grinned. "Lossser! Took you long enough. Did you take care of the butler?"

Luesir pulled the blade from her back and she grunted as she sat up.

"For now. We don't have long, now grab her and let's go."

She stood up and chuckled as her eyes turned back to normal. "Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna carry her." She turned and walked out of the room. "Let's go."

. . .

"I can't wait to get out of this dump."

"Well hurry up! Before that butler comes, we need to be gone!"

Butler?

Your eyes opened and you were met with the marble floor. The polished floor...that would be the ballroom. But it wasn't your feet that were moving.

You turned your head and saw the back of another. With red hair. Your nails dug into your palm in anger.

Damn! Sebastian, you were supposed to end him!

You caught sight of his armored tail and the stinger...that was covered in blood.

That stinger...it pacts a nasty poison. Especially if it's used on the owner.

In a flash, you wrapped your legs around Luesir's throat, flipped him around and grabbed his stinger which you then pointed at his chest.

His eyes were wide while Azah looked back at the noise. "Ah, you're awake. Good, we might make it out of here faster."

You pushed the tip of his stinger to his chest, earning a wince from him. "Where is Sebastian?"

He clenched his teeth. "Your first worry is him? I thought it would be that brat."

"I worry not for his safety, as long as he has his butler. Now, where is Sebastian?"

Your eyes narrowed, right before they went wide. You glanced down and saw the tip of Azah's double bladed staff. It was through your chest.

"I didn't want to do this, Felis. But you leave me with no other choice." The blade was yanked out and you collapsed to the floor.

It...it hurts...

You looked up at her. "What...is this?"

She stared down as she opened the staff, and revealed a red liquid inside. "Blood of the dead human."

Your breath hitched as you rolled over and crawled to her feet.

No. It can't be!

She scoffed. "Look at you. You've grown weak, Felis. You cared for that pitiful human, and now look at you. You're a disappointment. I'll never understand why he chose you."

You pushed yourself up and balanced yourself on your hands and knees. "Why did you come?"

She roughly grabbed your chin and made you look up. "He can't live without you, Felis. We will bring you back, no matter how much blood we will spill to make it happen." She kicked you in your stomach, which made you arch your back and bow to her.

"We could be sisters again. You're just like your pathetic human mother. Crawling to your death. What a waste." She rose her blade again, but stopped when her ears perked up.

"That's no way to treat a lady."

The blade was grabbed from the top, and ran through her heart. Her eyes widened, blood poured from her mouth and her eyes rolled back as she fell.

When she did, it revealed Sebastian standing behind her. He knelt down to you in concern. He picked up your head, and once he saw you choking on your own blood, his jaw ticked.

Your eyes lazily looked up at him. "W- where is C- Ciel?"

He stroked your cheek. "He's safe. Come, let's get you out of here. You need to feed."

Once he reached out to pick you up, a growl echoed in the room.

"Get your hands off of her!"

He was again, stabbed in the shoulder and pinned down by the stinger as Luesir stood up and towered over him. His stinger pulled out and in multiple times of his chest and shoulder, with him grinning in a sadistic way.

You narrowed your eyes and you felt something build up as you watched it.

"Prohibere"

(Stop)

He stopped instantly. You used what strength you had left to sit up. "Esse sapientes et relinquere nunc."

(Be wise and leave now)

He frowned. "Imus nihil"

(We don't leave)

He turned to look back at you. "....sine reginae" (Without our queen)

You rose your gaze to him and managed to wobbly stand up. "Tu audis ut mihi." (You will listen to me)

A smirk pulled at your lips. "Vel Vos responsum ad eum." (Or you answer to him)

His body tensed as he looked to the side and contemplated his actions.

After moments of silence, he pulled the stinger from Sebastian's chest and knelt down to pick up Azah. He threw her over his shoulder and glanced at you.

"This is far from over, Felis."

You nodded. "I'm well aware."

He grunted, and without another word, he walked out of the ballroom, and his tail folded back, disappearing from view as he did.

You exhaled and dropped to the floor, and kept your gaze down as Sebastian stood up and walked over to you.

"Y/N."

You lightly shook your head. "I feel so weak." You nearly fell to the side, but instead fell into his arms. You looked up at him. "You make me feel so...weak."

His brows furrowed, and that was the last thing you saw before your eyes closed.

. . .

You awoke with a gasp. And you were greeted with a ceiling. But it wasn't your ceiling. You glanced around, and it was a bedroom. You were on a bed. And it was in the manor, but this room - it was foreign to you.

"I see you've awaken."

You sat up and stared at the person leaning on the wall in the corner of the room. "How long?"

"The young master retired over an hour ago, the servants as well. They were worried for you. And as was I."

You quirked an eyebrow. "You? Worried? Don't make me laugh." You moved to sit up, but your midsection pulsated, which made you stop.

"You shouldn't move yet. That weapon of hers injected quite an amount of blood into you. You should feed to get back your strength."

You sighed. "Perhaps. In a little while, I'll search for something."

"No."

You looked up when he moved over and crouched down to you. "You need to feed. Now." He removed his gloves and pulled back his sleeve, then held out his wrist to you.

"That isn't necessary."

"Y/N." His voice was serious. "Feed."

Fine, if you insist.

You grabbed his wrist, retracted your fangs, brought your mouth to him and sunk your teeth in. Once his blood streamed down your throat, your lips wrapped around his flesh.

"My...you taste so delectable."

He chuckled as you sat on your knees, then stood up, along with him, and you couldn't control your hunger. You grabbed his coat and pushed until you forced him back, and up against the wall, continuing to feast on him. Once you were satisfied, you removed your fangs and licked the remaining blood off his wrist and hummed in approval.

You looked up, and that's when you noticed his arm around your waist.

"Sebastian? "

Once you said his name, it was his turn to loose control. He spun you around, so you were the one up against the wall. Your eyes were wide, but...you kind of liked it.

Because he was so close, it was as if you were seeing him for the first time. He was beautiful.

You flattened your hands on the wall, afraid you would do something you might regret.

He leaned in closer and closed his lids. "Y/N..."

You breathed out when he said your name, and his naked hands traveled down from your waist.

Your hands twitched. Your nails began digging into the wall due to your restraint. You had an uncontrollable urge, an itch to run your fingers through his silky Raven black hair. You wanted to pull him and hold him so close and tightly, just to have the feel of his body up against yours.

You resisted closing your eyes as his fingers lightly touched your skin, leaving a tingling trail as he slowly moved down your leg. It wasn't rough or forceful as demons are. No, it was soft like cotton kisses.

You could feel his warm breath tingle on your lips. If only you inched just a bit closer, you could get a taste of his sugary sweet lips.

But it was the emotion held in his crimson eyes that made you melt. They held a want. A need. A lustful desire. He was lusting...for you.

It was then that you realized what was happening. You were lusting for him as well.

No, it was worse than that. You never wanted his touch to fade. You wanted to only feel him on your body. You wanted to be the only one his fingers felt, the only one he lusted for.

And if anyone ever touched him, if anyone even thought about touching him or hurting him...you didn't care if he would heal—you didn't care if you despised the very taste of a human soul——you would devour every last drop of theirs and make them feel how cruel and monstrous you could be.

You were having feelings for this demon. You were thinking like a human.

But, you weren't humans. You were demons.

You make deals with humans and obtain their souls to feed on. You find a species member of the opposite sex and you mark them as yours. You mate, you breed, and the demon you mark is the only one you choose to keep you satisfied. A human would be useless, due to a demon's extreme aggression, once they reach extreme satisfaction, the human would instantly die. And if you were to loose that mate, you find another.

That is how you survived.

There are no emotions.

There are no desires.

There are no feelings involved.

But...

As he wrapped his other arm around your waist and made you arch your back into him, your lips now barely grazing his, you had only one thought on your mind...

Who the hell cares?

You leaned forward and bit his bottom lip. His eyes widened, but he didn't object, and wasted no time in colliding his lips on yours. The force was so hard, it knocked your head against the wall, but you didn't care.

Your nails ran through his locks and damn, it felt so good. His hands went to your skirt, and unlike the dream, he didn't bother sliding it down, no - instead, he just ripped it off your legs.

Your hands went to his tailcoat and you tore it off his arms, not bothering to unbutton it. He used one hand to pull down your blouse and tear off the buttons, then throw it on the ground. Oh well, they were covered in blood anyways.

As he did this, he used his other hand to reach under and in between your legs, picked you up and turned to throw you down on the bed. Your stockings were already full of holes, so it didn't take much to rip the rest off.

You weren't even aware this was happening, because his tongue was making your senses blind to everything else. Now, you understood why Grell got excited over the fact he could tie a cherry stem in a knot with it.

That all consuming kiss that truly made you feel something in your demonic heart. When your lips finally touched, it was electric. Cosmic. Mmm, you felt it everywhere. They stirred your emotions, your heart, what was left of your soul. The kiss was truly everything...all consuming, earth shattering, epic! It was in that moment you knew... you had finally found your mate.

"What is it you want, Sebastian?" You breathed out.

He kept his mouth on yours, but detached his lips enough to look at you with his demonic eyes. "I want to kiss you, I want you to never get the taste of me out of your mouth. Y/N, love me without fear. Trust me without questioning. Need me without demanding. Want me without  restrictions. Accept me without change. I will worship and love you for what and who you are."

You moaned when his hand moved down and tore off the laces of your corset, while his other hand moved near the crack separating your thighs.

"What is it you want, Y/N?"

Your lids opened to reveal your demonic orbs. "All I want is the taste your lips allow. I want to belong to you, and I want you to belong to me. I want you to stay by my side for all eternity. I want to be held in your embrace until the end of time." Your nails scratched lines into the sheets as he licked up the flames his touch left on your body. "Sebastian, I want you in the worst way...your taste, scent, and feel of your body against mine...I want it all tonight."

He chuckled, which sent vibrations through your near naked body, based at your stomach that was now healed. "Yes, my kitten."

You were really hoping everyone was asleep, or it would be an awkward conversation you would have with Ciel.

Throughout the rest of the night, you were helpless, you could only cling to the soft fabric of what was left of the bed sheet.